


Buy the Stars

by chloefrazerr



Category: Red Dead Redemption
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Humour, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Pre-Red Dead Redemption 2, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, Touch Starved Arthur, all my favourite tropes, slight AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-08-21 16:56:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16580396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chloefrazerr/pseuds/chloefrazerr
Summary: ‘Four men walked into the saloon, all looking mean and eyes scanning the room, quite clearly looking for someone. He turned back to the woman, who was no longer relaxed and flirtatious, her posture rigid and coiled. She moved closer to Arthur, grabbing his hand, the touch seeming to burn his skin.“I apologize in advance,” Was all she told him before she surged forward and kissed him.'When Arthur meets a woman by the name of Nyx, he's pulled into a world of trouble that forever changes his life; and he's not quite sure if it's a bad thing.





	1. Whiskey and Gin

**Author's Note:**

> I'm obsessed with rdr2 and Arthur Morgan and this idea's been in my head since I got it two weeks ago, so rather than doing Uni work I did this, I hope you enjoy.

Part One : Blackwater

September 1895 

The rusty fan above spun slowly, making a creaking noise every few seconds. It was drowned out by the gentle playing of the piano coming from the other end of the room. The saloon was quiet this afternoon which was strange for the bustling town of Blackwater.

There were two men in separate booths in the corner of the main room; one fast asleep, cradling an empty bottle in his arms and the other was quietly whispering to a scantily dressed woman, shrill giggles erupting every now and then. One man stood behind the bar, cleaning glasses with a dusty old rag along, keeping a close eye on all his patrons lest there be trouble. There were only two customers seated against the bar, one on the far right and the other in the middle.

Arthur sat on the far right, a half empty glass of whiskey clutched tightly in his hand, his head bowed as his eyes scanned the letter on the table top over and over, trying to make sense of the words. It was far too early to be drinking, he knew that but when a letter came to him from Mary herself detailing her new martial status, whiskey was needed. His eyes moved to the top again, having lost count over the number of times he’d read this.

_My Dearest Arthur,_

_I thought I’d write to let you know, I married a few months ago, on April 3rd to be exact._

_I don’t know why I’m writing this, I just felt like you deserved to know. You deserve to know because we were in love once, you asked me to marry you and I said yes but with most things that happen between us, it always falls apart. I’m happy now, I have someone who loves me and who I love back without all the tears and drama._

_I’ll always love you Arthur, but our time has passed and we need to move on. It’d be better for the both of us. I hope one day, you’ll manage to find someone who loves you, someone who’s probably better suited to your lifestyle than I ever was._

_Yours,_

_Mary Linton_

Arthur sniffled, trying to cover up him woe by finishing off his drink, slamming the glass down on the table after. He grabbed the letter, crumpling the paper into a ball and shaving it into his satchel, not wanting to mope around too much. He glanced around the room, trying to find something to distract him from his conflicting feelings, eyes landing on women fanning themselves on the second floor. Arthur shook his head at himself, knowing that a quick fuck wasn’t going to solve his problems and he wasn’t the type of man to take that out on a woman.

His eyes skimmed over the man in the middle of the bar but they snapped back when he realised it was a woman and his attention seemed to just stick on her, subtly gazing at her beneath the brim of his hat. She was dressed in a long brown weathered duster that brushed the ankle of her knee length boots. Her trousers were black pinstripe, a brown belt was wrapped around her hips, a single revolver within its holster. Her face was hidden by her wide brimmed, black flat top hat, an angry looking scar across her jaw exposed to him.

The mysterious woman’s head started to lift, a sign that he’d been staring for far too long so he quickly looked away, fiddling with his empty glass. The clanking of spurs creeping towards him informed Arthur that he’d been caught but he kept his cool, turning to the woman approaching him.

Her face was square, cheekbones high and sharp with full, plump limps and a straight, narrow nose. What drew him to her was her honey coloured eyes that seemed to have a glint of mischief in them that glistened in the low lighting on the saloon. He felt something stir in him then, finding her to be quite stunning. She stopped beside him, head turning to the barkeep, hand fishing into her satchel.

“A gin and a whiskey, please,” She asked the bartender, her voice was soft with the light lit of a Mexican accent.

She placed a few cents on the bar top and Arthur moved to protest but she beat him too it.

“I insist, you look like you need another,” She told him, moving her body to lean her waist against the bar’s edge.

“Well, I can never say no to a free drink,” He replied just as the drinks were placed in front of them and the barkeep collected his money.

They collected their drinks, clinking their glasses together in a silent toast and downed their drinks, the burn of the whiskey scorching Arthur’s throat, leaving him coughing. She placed her glass back down on the bar carefully, shaking her head, her long black hair whipping around her face.

“Thanks for the drink, miss,” Her eyebrow rose at the use of the word miss, the corner of her lip quirking up in amusement.

“You’re welcome, you seemed awful low in the corner here moping over that letter. Women troubles?” Arthur let out a breathy laugh, finding her straightforwardness refreshing, not often coming across a woman with her confidence.

If he was being honest, he didn’t think he’d seen many women like her in Blackwater, most being ladies of high society that looked down at him. At that thought, his thoughts started to linger towards Mary but he pushed that away, turning to focus on the unnamed woman before him.

“How’d you figure?” He wondered, his voice full of mirth, his spirits beginning to lift.

“If it’s one thing I’ve learnt about men and saloons is that they always come to drink whenever they have issues with their ladies. You see that drunken fool in the corner,” She inclined her head to the man who now had the giggling lady on his lap and Arthur pulled a face at the act, coughing awkwardly.

“He caught his wife with another man, heard their fight earlier. And the sleeping loaf? Wife kicked him out for the night, the woman pushed him into me on accident,” She explained, motioning at the man behind to the bar to pour the two of them another drink once she finished speaking.

“You here in town to spy on the locals or somethin’ else? He wondered, feeling extremely interested in this woman.

She bowed her head, her hair falling to curtain her face from view to hide the small sweet laughter that escaped her lips and Arthur felt a small smile grow on his lips, feeling lightheaded from the alcohol and the intoxicating aura of the woman before him. Perhaps this was just the distraction he needed.

“No, no spying, just passing through, wanting to discover the wonders of America,” The last past was spoken in a sarcastic tone that had Arthur huffing with laughter.

She took a sip of her drink, using her other hand to curl her hair around her ear, gazing at Arthur once again. The woman sauntered closer to him so that there was only a small gap between them, the scent of jasmine assaulting his senses, seeming to reel him in.

“I hate to disappoint you, miss but there ain’t much wonderous things around these parts, I hear New York’s real nice,” He quipped back, feeling himself becoming hotter the longer he stared at her.

He could feel the tension rapidly rising between them and even spotted a faint dusting of crimson across her tanned cheeks. She opened her mouth to reply but her eyes suddenly became unfocused from him, travelling past his shoulder and Arthur’s head to turned to side to what was behind him.

Four men walked into the saloon, all looking mean and eyes scanning the room, quite clearly looking for someone. He turned back to the woman, who was no longer relaxed and flirtatious, her posture rigid and coiled up, lips pursed and a frown marring her features. She quickly grabbed her glass, downing the remaining gin and started to move closer to Arthur, grabbing his hand, the touch seeming to burn his skin.

“I apologize in advance,” Was all she told him before she surged forward and kissed him.

Arthur froze, the cogs in his brain coming to a halt as the woman cradled his face, soft lips moving against his unresponsive ones. When her body pressed right against his, he started to melt, his mind beginning to work again as his eyes fell closed and his hands secured themselves around her hips, nails digging into the leather of her duster.

Arthur clicked together what she was doing; these men were obviously trouble for her and she was using him as a way to hide. Normally, he would’ve pushed her away, not exactly wanting to feel used but the waft of jasmine, the warm press of her lips and lack of a woman’s touch over a long period of time overcame any of logic.

He started to push the two of them backwards when his ears picked up on approaching footsteps, knowing they’d be covered by the shadows in the corner of the room. He drew away from her for a moment to catch his breath and she followed his movement, reclaiming his lips again, this time her teeth scraping his bottom lip and pulling, causing a moan to slip out that he couldn’t control. Both of their bodies jolt when they came to the end of the room, the woman bumping into the wall and Arthur kept her there.

He moved away from her lips, trailing several sloppy kisses across her cheeks, teeth catching her earlobe that left her gasping before he moved to suck on junction where her jaw met her neck. Her hands travelled into his light hair, knocking the hat off his head and tugging that made him start to strain in his trousers despite how much he was trying to avoid that. This was a distraction to hide from these men, they both knew that but with the alcohol flowing in their blood, it was obvious they were quickly losing themselves in the heat of the movement.

Her leg wrapped itself around his hip, drawing him impossibly closer and he wedged a leg between hers and he could tell she was doing her best not to rub herself against his leg. He smiled against her neck, travelling back up to capture her lips, slipping a tongue into her mouth, hers intertwining into his own and he tasterd gin. His hand snaked underneath her shirt, the rough callouses of his hand a stark contrast to her smooth and unblemished skin, and she shivered when he ran his hand over her stomach, fingertips brushing against her breast.

“She ain’t here fellas, let’s look somewhere else,” A man told the others, footfalls becoming quieter with each passing second but the two in the darkness seemed to be in a bubble of their own, Arthur’s thumbs brushing against her hardened nipples that caused her to grind on his leg.

“If you’re gonna continue with that, buy a room,” The irritated bellow of the barkeep acted as the needle to burst their bubble and the pair drew away from each other.

For a few seconds they both breathed heavily, trying to calm down from the intense few seconds they’d spent together wrapped up in each other. Blue stared at honey, both trying to gauge the each other’s reactions. Arthur drank in the sight of the dishevelled mess that he’d caused before him; her hat was also on the floor, ebony hair wild, pupils blown wide, lips swollen and beginnings of a bruise starting to blossom on her neck. She started to wiggle in Arthur’s hold in a way of discomfort, not trying to gain friction.

Arthur felt a surge of disappointment flow through him then, realising that this wasn’t going to be finish in a rented room and that it stopped here. He felt flickers of anger start to kindle in the depths of his stomach, frustrated that he’d allowed himself to be used and he wasn’t going to get any release anytime soon but he supposed he knew what he was signing himself up for when he realised she was using him as a distraction.

He withdrew his hand from her shirt, gently lowering her to the floor and moving a few paces away from her. He bent down to pick their hats up off the floor, allowing her a moment of privacy to right herself and straightened his posture when she finished. Arthur extended her hat towards her and she took it, their fingertips brushing at the action that nearly made him want to surge forward again but he controlled himself. Neither spoke for a moment and he noticed that she seemed extremely shy around him, as though he didn’t just have his tongue down her throat only seconds ago.

She secured her hat on her head then and she looked back at him, her face back to the confident self he had met earlier.

“Thanks for the help mister,” She winked at him before brushing past him and Arthur could only watch as she strode out of the saloon, disappearing into the glow of the setting sun.

It was then when Arthur realised that he never did get her name.


	2. By Chance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here I attempt plot x

November 1895

The afternoon sun was high in the sky, warming the town of Blackwater below, a welcome change to the normal November chill. Many people bustled around the growing town, wanting to take advantage of the weather while it lasted.

Couples strolled down pathways, arms linked and heads bowed in private conversation. Children ran down the street, chasing each other with screams of glee that caused some to look down at them in disgust. They barrelled their way through the crowds of people, causing some to stumbled over and shout after them.

Arthur walked down the sunny street, the Callander brothers trailing behind him, engrossed in their own conversation, something he was grateful for. He sidestepped the noisy children as they rushed towards him. He gave a short laugh, glad that they were enjoying their youth despite the displeasure of those around him. He shook his head again, continuing on his path towards the station, Dutch having informed him earlier that Trelawny was soon to arrive and apparently had a tip on a big score.

The Gang were severely lacking in terms of money lately, being little to no leads about any heists. There had been rumours swirling around camp that a rival gang was moving into their territory, just last month in New Austin, the bank in Tumbleweed had been hit, the whole scene left in a massacre of the law, the bank tellers and its patrons; money taken in the aftermath. Many wagons carrying money and goods had been left destroyed and the law couldn’t figure out who was causing all this destruction.

Dutch had quickly cut that rumour short, reminding everyone of the success they had over the years, a few sloppy idiots weren’t to bring them down. But behind the confident exterior, Arthur could see that Dutch was worried about these rumours and had sent Arthur on his way to find out what information Trelawny had for them.

Someone bumped into him unexpectedly, his thoughts having consumed him so completely that he didn’t even notice the individual jogging towards him. Arthur stumbled back then, the scent of jasmine assaulting his nose as he tripped into Davey and Mac who both gave a shout at his actions. When Arthur righted himself, he glanced at the person who barrelled into him, face twisted in anger.

“Watch where you’re going, asshole!” He shouted and the person glanced back at him.

“Sorry, sir,” The voice was feminine with a soft accent, one that he knew from somewhere but couldn’t quite pinpoint.  

When the stranger looked up from the rim of her hat to briefly glance at him, honey eyes glittered against the afternoon sun and the scar along her jaw stood out to him.

_Holy shit._

What were the chances? He certainly didn’t think he’d see her again but a small, selfish part of him had secretly hoped that something would pull them together.  Their last encounter had been forever burned into his mind; the soft press of her body against his and the way her lips melded into his. He’d even sketched her face into his journal, looking back at it now and then, like he was moping over a long-lost lover.

Three men brushed past them then and Arthur immediately recognised them as the men from the bar two months ago, only they were short a man. They were following the woman, picking up their pace as the woman started to move further away. Something rolled in his stomach, the whole situation not feeling right to him and Arthur Morgan, ever the hero, couldn’t let something happen when he knew there was trouble.

He turned to Mac and Davey, the pair watching him with a quizzical expression, looking dumb like they always did.

“You two, go find and meet Trelawny, I have somethin’ I need to deal with,” He told them, already moving to follow the men before the brothers had a chance to question him.

Arthur started to power walk, trying to catch up with the men while Davey called him name in frustration, something that he ignored. The trio ahead of him didn’t notice him trailing after them, far too engrossed in the woman, who was practically running away from them. Arthur was curious to know what she’d done that had caused her to still be hunted after these men over so many months. He figured that she was an outlaw like himself if her clothing and the predicament she seemed to be in was anything to go by. She could probably handle this herself but men chasing after a lone woman didn’t sit right with him.

She turned a corner, disappearing from view and the men started to run now, so Arthur started himself into a light jog, realising the situation was quickly escalating. Those milling around in Blackwater paid no mind to what was happening, too self-absorbed in themselves to help, something that left him shaking his head.

When Arthur turned the corner, he spotted the men going into an alleyway across the street and he ran to get there faster. There was a cry of frustration as he neared and he used the wall of the building as cover, peeking out from the cover to carefully observe what was happening.

One man had her up against the wall, a knife to her throat and his body pressed against hers, while two guns were trained on her. The first men had his face inches away from hers and her head was angled away from him, trying to put as much distance between them as possible. Arthur’s blood boiled, hand going to his belt to grab his gun but stilled when they started to talk.

“You’ve caused us a lot of trouble, bitch,” He leered, spitting the derogatory term out of his mouth like venom, the woman flinching as it sprayed on her face.

“Me? I’m sure you’ve confused me with someone else pal,” She quipped, her words dry and face bored.

The man slammed her into the wall then, knocking her head against the brick wall causing her to shout. The knife dug deeper into her throat and Arthur could see blood trailing down her neck and into her shirt. As much as he wanted to spring in there and save her, he had to wait for the right moment or it would leave her with a slit throat.

“Not only did you steal half our money, burn our camp down, _killed_ my men, you landed my cousin in jail ready to be hanged and all for a fucking bounty!” He screamed and the two men behind him looked at each other in worry.

Arthur quirked an eyebrow up at the words, impressed that one woman had done all that. Who the hell was she?

“Well, you know, a girl’s gotta pay her taxes somehow,” Arthur wasn’t sure if this woman was brave or just plain stupid.

The man moved the knife away from her neck and rose his hand, no doubt ready to slap her. It was then when Arthur acted; he turned the corner, cocking his gun towards them all, pulling back the hammer with an audible click that had everyone in the alleyway freezing in their movements.

“Now, fellas, is this anyway to treat a lady?” He started.

Although he was talking to the men, his eyes were focused on the woman against the wall, who was staring at him in confusion and it was obvious she was trying to identify him.

“This ain’t no lady, mister, I suggest you scram, this ain’t no business of yours,” The main man told him, pointing his knife at Arthur, trying (and failing) to be threatening.

The woman recognised him then, her eyes widening and Arthur’s lips quirked up. He took note of her hand traveling towards her belt, inching towards her knife. She gave Arthur a look and inclining her head towards the men, that unforgettable gleam in her eye making itself to him, secretly communicating to him that he needed to keep stalling them.

Yet another distraction it seems, and Arthur’s a little disappointed that it wasn’t like the last.

“It might not be but when I see a woman followed into an alleyway, it doesn’t sit quite right with me,”

Her hand was wrapped around her knife now, pulling it from its sheath quietly. Before the man could retort Arthur’s words, the woman had plunged her weapon into the man’s side. Then all hell broke loose.

The woman pushed the man backwards, pulling the knife out of his stomach as she did, pouning on the man to the right after. The one on the left swung around and took a shot at her before Arthur had a chance to shoot him. She stumbled forward as the bullet pierced her shoulder, tripping over her feet and into the hard ground. Arthur shot him in the back of the head, the man falling face first, body limp.

The man she’d tackled earlier was on top of her now, beating every inch of her. Arthur ran over to her, careful not to trip over the bodies on the ground, ready to pull the idiot off of her. He didn’t want to risk shooting him in case the bullet went clean through and killed her as well. Suddenly a sharp pain pierced his calf and his leg crumpled beneath him, which his opponent used to his advantage.

Arthur was tackled from behind, nose colliding with the grass below and he heard a crack, followed by a steam of blood pouring out of his nose. The man on top of him turned him around, wedging Arthur’s body between his legs and holding him there. In daze, Arthur allowed him to do it, his head spinning from where he’d knocked it on the ground, barely even registering the first punch that was slung across his face. It was when the third one came that did Arthur come back to his senses, putting an arm up to block the fourth punch. His free hand grabbed the man by the collar of his shirt, holding him there and quickly knocking his forehead against the other mans.

Despite Arthur’s attack, the man stayed on top of his, the action seeming to make him even more furious. His hands easily wrapped themselves around Arthur’s throat, squeezing the life out of him while Arthur weakly struggled, the blow to his head being more harmful than he thought. Just as black spots started to dance around his vision, there was a loud gunshot that seemed to echo across the walls of the alleyway. The weight on top of him vanished and he heard the body crash to the ground beside him.

Arthur started to cough violently, leaning his body to one side to clear his throat, taking in the scent of blood, jasmine and petrichor, the latter telling him that it had begun to rain. When his vision cleared, he lifted himself up so that he was sitting on the ground, feeling extremely weary. The woman came into view and he observed her carefully as she made her way over to the man laying still on the ground.

She spat on him, giving his body a hearty few kicks before she leant her back on the building. Her eyes were closed as she rested her hatless head against the wall, breathing deeply and all Arthur could was watch, unsure how to proceed next. The woman, still nameless to him, opened her eyes having felt him staring, honey irises guarded. For a moment, they just took each other in, Arthur taking note of how she cradled her shoulder and how her left eye was beginning to rapidly swell. The cut on her neck was still bleeding, mixing in with the scratches that marred her chest, the buttons of her black shirt gone.

She went to open her mouth but an all too familiar whistle interrupted whatever she was going to say. The woman moved, bloodied hand extending towards him in a silent offer of help. Arthur gladly took it, clasping her small hand into his, their fingers curling into each other. With ease, she lifted him up, slinging his arm across her good shoulder, arm worming its way across his back and keeping a hold of his hand.

“Let’s get out of here,”


	3. Nyx

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel really nervous about posting this chap, I hope I'm writing Arthur okay! Enjoy and thank you everyone for the comments and the kudos, it really does mean a lot

The pair of them quickly left the alleyway from the other end, emerging into a deserted street, not a soul in sight. Nyx dragged the nameless man to the left, his slightly dead weight making it extremely difficult to move at all. While she was strong, the man was still a lot heavier and taller than she was, but she tried with what she had.

It certainly didn’t help that her shoulder was screaming in pain as the man’s arm pressed down against it. Thankfully, the bullet had only skimmed the top of her shoulder but the pressure against it only worsened the wound. Not too far away was a stable, something she could use to get the both of them out of here.

It was foolish of her to return to the town so soon after Sand’s men had come looking for her in that saloon but she knew that the only person that provided her with good information was due to arrive in Blackwater this morning. When her business had been dealt with, she aimed to disappear from the town to avoid any further incidents and never come back again, at least not for a long while.

However, when she had reached her horse, she found the remaining men of Sand’s men standing over the corpse of her poor Kentucky Saddler. She had thought she’d be safe for at least a few hours in Blackwater but they must have been lingering here, waiting for her to come back.

There was another whistle, this one sounding much closer than before, so she picked up their pace, the man trying to keep up with her. She proved too quick for him because the next thing she knew, they were both veering to one side and tumbling to the ground.

The man landed on his back with a huff and she was cushioned by his chest, hands stretching outwards to prevent herself from headbutting him. Their noses were almost touching as she hovered over him, ocean blue eyes that haunted her dreams seeming to bore into her own, a warm rush coming to her cheeks.

Nyx moved off of him quickly, knowing that this was far from the time to be blushing like a teenager. She swung her leg over his chest, grabbing his hand to help him up to a sitting position. She spotted a cluster of crates against a nearby building and looked back at his leg, the blood seeping through his jeans, the bullet obviously causing a lot of damage.

“Listen, you go hide in those crates over there and I’ll go grab a horse to get us out of here,” She informed him, standing to her full height.

He opened his mouth, no doubt ready to protest but the words died on his tongue when she fixed him with a look.

“Fine,” He grumbled, his voice a little nasally and fixed him with a wink as she gently helped him up.

When he started to hobble over to the crates, Nyx started to jog towards the stable, having wasted enough time already. Normally, she would have left the man to his fate but she felt like she owed him. He’d saved her hide more than once and despite not even knowing a thing about her, he helped her.

The small, careful part of her knew to keep her guard up, making sure she was still suspicious of him regardless of his actions, it was only natural she supposed. But the bigger part, the one who’s heart overtook her mind told her that she should help him, it wouldn’t sit right with her to leave him to the law.

As she neared the stables, she took note of only a single stable hand, fast sleep on a stool with his back against the wall beside the entrance and his hat tipped over his eyes. She assumed that the majority of the town had gathered around the mess that they’d left behind, which reminded her that she needed to act fast.

Nyx moved to a crouch, thankful she never wore spurs and slowly began to creep into the barn, keeping a close eye on the sleeping man. Once she’d successfully gotten in, her eyes scanned inside, her eyes landing on a beautiful Golden Turkoman horse who seemed to be staring at her with its warm, brown eyes.

“ _Aren’t you beautiful, come on, let’s get you out of here,”_ She mumbled in Spanish, rushing over to open the gate.

The horse gave a huff when she approached and Nyx reached out a hand: fingertips gently brushing its face and it bounced its head, drawing nearer towards her touch. Nyx’s hand grabbed a hold of the reigns already put into place, her other hand opening the gate.

She carefully led the horse out into the open, other horses starting to whinny as their peace was disturbed and she knew she had to act fast. Not wanting to waste anymore time, she clambered onto the horse, telling herself that she’d worry about a saddle later. She commanded the horse to trot out the back, not wanting to wake up the relaxed man.

When she was in the clear, she nicked the horses sides and it gave a huff before speeding up. Nyx saw the man’s head poking out from the crates, starting to move from his hiding spot as she approached. She pulled on the reigns, forcing the horse to come to a stop and she hopped off the horse. Nyx helped the man onto the horse wordlessly, his hand finding purchase in her good shoulder as leverage to help him up. Blood trickled out of his trouser leg, staining the horses coat and she winced.

“You got a plan?” He asked, his voice sounding back to its normal gruff pitch, and she climbed back onto the horse, placing herself in front of him.

She could feel his hands hovering over her sides and she almost rolled her eyes, not too long ago he had his hands up her shirt and his leg between her thighs. Nyx guided the horse to turn around, angling it to the direction of the open space beside the stables.

She bit her lip, trying to think of where to go next; she could make camp somewhere in Tall Trees but she had little to no supplies, the spare she kept on the saddle of her dead horse. She gave a quick sigh, realising she’d have to take him to the cabin where she was staying at temporarily in Big Valley.

She wouldn’t normally take a stranger back to one of her safe places but she wasn’t going to leave him in the state he was in. 

“I have a cabin in Big Valley, they won’t follow us there,” She informed him, glancing back to check on him, finding him a little pale.

Her eyes skimmed past his shoulder, finding police men trickling out the alleyway they’d emerged from earlier and she spurred the horse into a gallop, not wanting to waste anymore time.

“You sure about that?” He wondered and she felt a little offended, they hadn’t been caught by the law yet had they?

“You have a better plan, mister?” She snapped, glaring at him in ire.

His eyes widened slightly, his lip quirking up at her assertiveness. Nyx rolled her eyes this time, turning back focus on the road ahead of them, turning the horse to travel towards the river that lead across to Big Valley.

She felt his hands press into her side then, fingers curling around the fabric of her duster, body moving a little closer to hers. It took everything she had not to react, hands clutching the reigns a little tighter. Oh, she was a fool, a big, fucking fool. The first nice touch of a man she’d ever experienced and she was a melting mess. Goddamit, she knew better than that.

“No, ma’am,” She gave a snort at the polite term, taking her by surprise.

“Oh, please don’t call me, ma’am. Name’s Nyx,” She angled her head to the side, giving him a wink as her mask of self-confidence started to morph over her, acting like a shield to her truer self.

“Nyx? What the hell kinda name is that?” He wondered, mirth clear in his voice.

Nyx let out an exaggerated gasp, pretending that she hadn’t heard the same reaction from others before.

“I have good mind to leave you to bleed in the river for your rudeness, mister,” She teased, throwing back a smirk.

“Arthur Morgan,” He informed her and she was glad for it.

They started to make their way into the cluster of trees that lead into the denser forests of Big Valley. The sun was starting to dip in the sky, the latter painted lilac and pink, the vast woodland becoming bathed in the glow of the setting sun. Wildlife skittered across the ground, kicking up leaves as they went. Birds cawed from their place on branches and wolves howled off in the distance, the atmosphere turned into something more eerie despite beauty of the sky above.

“You read anything about Greek Mythology, Arthur Morgan?” She wondered, breaking the silence they had lapsed into.

“Can’t say I have,” He replied.

“Nyx is the Goddess of the Night and when I read about her, well, I thought it suited me. A new name for a new life I suppose,” She informed him.

“Well, it’s certainly unique, so I’d say it suited you, you’re certainly unlike any woman I’ve ever met,” She glanced back at him, the edge of her lip beginning to curl up.

“Oh, you have no idea, Mister Morgan,” She drawled, giving him her signature wink.

Arthur gave a low laugh then, bowing his head, the brim of his hat covering the majority of his face. She noticed that his cheeks were starting to colour and she tried not to laugh, turning back around and pretending that she hadn’t seen his bashfulness. They fell into a comfortable silence as they went deeper into the forest, the area now thick and well hidden from the plains.

*

A few minutes later they travelled into a small clearing, a cabin opposite them hidden underneath the shadow of the overhanging trees. There was a sudden bark from inside the house and Nyx smiled widely, a warmth overtaking the weariness that she’d been feeling ever since they left Blackwater.

She pulled on the reigns, bringing the horse to a halt before jumping off the horse. Just as she did, a German Shepard came barrelling out of the cabin, running straight towards her. She bent down, extending her arms out as the dog came crashing into her, licking her face while she laughed in glee.

“Who’s this then?” Nyx jumped, suddenly remembering herself and quickly schooled her features.

She stood up then, the dog circling around her legs as she turned back around to face Arthur, who was watching her with weary amusement. Nyx moved over to him, slinking her arm around his back while throwing his arm over her shoulder despite his protests that he was fine.

“This is Bea,” She informed him as they started to make their way towards the cabin.

Bea gave a yap at the use of her name, moving away from her owner to sniff Arthur.

“She’s beautiful,” He mumbled and she knew it was more to himself than her.

Nyx raised an eyebrow when she started to lick the tips of his fingers and Arthur scratched the top of her head. It normally took Bea a while to warm up to people but she seemed to have done so to Arthur straight away. For a moment, she stared at the man in puzzlement, trying to somehow work him out but shook her head, deciding that wasn’t the time now.

They started to climb the stairs, Arthur giving a low moan with each step, something that she apologized for every time. When they entered the house, Nyx moved them from the main room into the bedroom, carefully placing Arthur down on the bed, uncaring if he was going to bleed all over her bedsheets. She’d probably be out of this cabin in a few days’ time anyway.

“Okay, stay there, I’ll grab some supplies,” She informed him, rushing out of the room before she could even comment, Bea staying with him.

Nyx placed her satchel down on the table, shrugging her leather duster off and draping it against the back of the chair. She went over to the tub on the countertop where she kept her clean water, reaching over to the side to grab a bucket. As she did, the dying sunlight seeped through the broken window, illuminating her hands.

The red that stained her hands gave her pause, her eyes widening and her breathing becoming just that little quicker. While she was no stranger to death and blood, it always reminded her of who, _what¸_ she used to be, the part of her that was made into a killer, forced to commit atrocities that still kept her awake at night.

Nyx knew that in her line of work, in what she was doing now, killing was unavoidable, it was apart of the life she led. But it was the memories that would haunt her each time, following her around like a ghost, illusions appearing before her in the form of those she’d hurt. It’s the way it has been for the past seven years and it never got even easier.

She curled her shaking hands into fists, bringing her arms down to her sides and closing her eyes. In her head, she counted to ten. Each number calmed her down, the tightness in her chest lessened, her fingers slowly started to uncurl from the palm of her hand and she felt lighter again, the wall she built up for herself strengthening. Nyx’s eyes fluttered open, her body moving on autopilot as she grabbed an old rag dipping it into the tub of water as well as grabbing some lye before furiously scrubbing her hands until the blood had gone.

She tied her ebony locks into low bun, wrapping a single purple bow around her hair from her pocket to hold it in place. She collected a bowl of water from the tub, a cleaner rag, a towel, her bag of medical supplies and some whiskey, the latter something she knew Arthur would probably desperately need. When she came back to the room, she saw Arthur bent down and rubbing Bea’s exposed stomach, the dog staring at the man with big brown eyes that made her laugh. Arthur jumped, clearly engrossed in the dog that left her smiling.

“She seems to like you, Mister Morgan,” Nyx said softly, placing her items near the bedside table and grabbing a chair to sit opposite him.

“She reminds me of my old dog,” He mentioned, rubbing Bea behind her ears that made something warm bloom in a chest.

She shook that away that feeling before she let it get to her head, deciding that now was not the time. Nyx leant down to grab his leg, his boot already gone and jeans rolled up. Her hands hovered over his leg for a moment, glancing up at him to gain his permission to find him at her warily.

“You sure you know what you’re doin’?” He wondered, understandable scepticism in his voice.

“Trust me,” She told him simply.

They regarded each other for a moment, Arthur’s sapphire eyes boring into her own, his crinkled at the sides. It was almost like he was trying to figure her out, causing her to shift in her spot uncomfortably, breaking eye contact with him, feeling exposed for the first time in a long time and focused her attention on the scars that littered his chin. He nodded then, giving her silent permission to do her work.

She gave him a quick, timid smile before setting about her task, picking his leg up by his ankle being mindful of his wound. First, she assessed the damage, wincing at the blood that still seeped out of the hole, albeit slowly. She dipped the rag into the bucket of water and started to gently dab the blood away until his leg was no longer stained. The bottle of whiskey came next, using another rag to drench it in alcohol and covering her hands in the liquid to be extra safe.

Nyx murmured a quick apology then pressed the rag against his leg, needing to sterilise before she could dig the bullet out. Arthur gave a low groan, his muscles under her fingertips tensing and Bea gave a low whine, no doubt sensing his pain.

“Fuck,” He growled and she shifted in her chair again.

Once she felt that she’d disinfected it enough, she grabbed her tweezers, poured alcohol over it. With her free hand, she passed the whiskey over to Arthur and the man gladly took it off her hands, taking one long sip as she started to dig into his leg to find the bullet. It was a long and painful process, the bullet being deeper in his leg then she anticipated. All the while Arthur groaned, giving a sharp cry when she hit the bullet and gently extracted it, plopping it onto the bedside table.

The stitching came next and she blocked out any further noise, her tongue sticking out from between her teeth and her nose crinkling subconsciously. She wasn’t the best at stitching, no matter how many times Ida had shown her how to do it, she still couldn’t wrap her head around it but she tried her best, not wanting to inflict more damage on Arthur’s leg than he had already received. When she was done, she tried not to grimace, instead wrapping his leg in bandages, tying a knot at the end.

Nyx shuffled off her chair, placing Arthur’s leg in her place and stood up, her hands going to rest on her hips.

“There you go. I would suggest leaving it rested like that for a couple of hours before you start moving about just to be sure but I won’t keep you here if you need to leave,” She explained to him, not wanting him to feel like she was forcing him to stay.

“It’s best if I… we lay low, no doubt the law will be lookin’ for us,” He told her and she nodded in agreement.

“Alright, well, take the time to rest now, Mister Morgan, I’ll fix us up something to eat,” She went about collecting her supplies, leaving him the bucket of water and towel to clean up while she was gone and started to draw away.

“Hold on a second,”

She back around to face him, eyebrow quirked up, waiting patiently for whatever he wanted to say. His rough features were furrowed, lips pursed and pulled down, eyebrows drawn together, eyes glittering in uncertainty. Bea nudged him with her nose and Nyx bit her lip, trying not to laugh when Arthur seemed extremely serious.

“I… Thank you,” The words took her by surprise, her other eyebrow raising to join her other.

With surprise, came confusion, not quite understanding what he was saying to her. Why should he be thanking her? He’s the one that risked his life when he intervened in that alleyway, hurting himself in the process. It made her feel a little guilty, she didn’t deserve his praise, her chest becoming tight again. She stared him dead in eye when she spoke next.

“No, thank _you,_ if it wasn’t for you, I’d probably would have been in a lot of trouble, it’s you that deserves the praise, not me,” Her voice was stern and guarded, her inner frustration at herself starting to bleed into her words.

He looked as though he was about to protest but she quickly cut him short before she made the interaction more uncomfortable.

“Rest and clean up, I’ll check on you later,”

She beckoned Bea to follow her, turning on her heel and out of the room, shutting the door behind her without another word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> btw if you guys ever want to visualise Nyx, her faceclaim is Eiza Gonzalez


	4. Kindling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is my favourite chapter so far! I'm planning to make the chapters longer as well so it might take longer to update but regardless, I hope you enjoy and thank you for the support

_Met that woman again, found her being followed by the same men who were looking for her two months ago. They’re dead now and no doubt we both have bounties on our head because of it. She told me her name was Nyx, a strange name but it seems to fit right, unlike any woman I’ve come across before._

_Fights like a damn beast, has the strength of one too the way she managed to drag my ass everywhere. She’s sneaky too, stole a horse right out from underneath the stable hand’s nose, like a ghost in the wind. Interesting to say the least._

_But there’s something else about her, something in way she acts, the way her honey coloured eyes look, like she’s hiding something dark. Everyone has their secrets but the way she looked at me when she refused my praise, there was something sinister in her gaze, like she’d seen too much. She didn’t look that old, probably going on twenty-three, four, I don’t know._

_I should keep my guard up, she clearly not one to be messed with but she’s given me no doubt to not trust her. She could’ve left me to the law, she didn’t have to bring me here and patch me up. She seems like a good person, certainly better than me that’s for sure._

Arthur paused in his writing when a sharp cry came from the other room, his hand immediately going his gun that he’d left on the beside table while he had cleaned up, dropping his journal on the bed. He swung his bad leg off the bed, the movement sending a bolt of agony through his injury, causing him to bite his lip. Despite the pain, he shot off the bed, striding over to the door as fast as his leg would allow him. He peered through the crack where the door had been left open ajar to check, only to freeze with what he saw.

Nyx stood illuminated by the moonlight that streamed in from the window behind her, the white shirt she was wearing half way down her back, black hair curled around her neck. It wasn’t the state of undress that held him in place, rather the multitude of scars that littered her back, as though someone had continually whipped something against her skin. Arthur felt something akin to horror fill him, never having seen such scars before and he wondered who the hell could have done such a thing. The grip on his gun tightened, his eyes narrowing and the fury rising the longer he stared at her back.

It wasn’t until her head moved to the side did he snap himself out of his reverie, twisting his body around to press his back against the wall next to the door, not wanting to be caught staring like some peeping tom. Although, he did speak up, just to make sure that she was okay.

“You alright in there?” He called.

“Yes, I-… Yes,” She told him simply, pain laced into her tone.

It was quite obvious to him that she was, in fact, not doing alright but he wouldn’t bother her, knowing that it wasn’t his place.

“Well, okay, holler if you need any help with anythin’” He offered, his voice becoming uncertain and quiet towards the end of his sentence, rubbing the back of his head.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine,” Her voice was sterner this time and Arthur’s eyebrows rose.

Arthur didn’t reply after that, not wanting to annoy her anymore than he was probably already doing and went back over to the bed. He chided himself, wondering when he was going to be able to talk to women correctly, all he seemed to do around them was act a fool or put his foot in his mouth. It really was a wonder how he was raised by Hosea and Dutch, probably the smoothest talkers he’d ever met. Once upon a time, he used to be good at it but he supposed that the disaster of his involvement with Mary had left him more than unskilled.

Arthur shook his head, willing the thoughts he had carefully locked away back into the box at dark corners of his mind. To distract himself, he grabbed his journal when he went back to sit on the lumpy bed, opening it up to the page where his newest entry was.

On the blank left page, he started to draw, his pencil moving across the cream paper effortlessly, the process second nature to him now. He drew a moment that had been stuck in his mind all day; the vivid memory of Nyx standing over him after she had shot that man in the head. Arthur tried to capture what he remembered; the smoking gun clutched in a tight hand, the other pressed against her shoulder, her black hair wild around her face, face completely devoid of emotion save for the rage that her glittered in her eyes.  

Once he was finished, he stared at his work, quite impressed with what he’d done. He was by no means an artist, probably the least skilled one of them all, but some of the good ones he’d created made him feel a little better.

Next, he moved onto Bea, the dog having completely captured his heart in a few seconds like Copper had done the moment he met him. God, he missed that old dog. He drew Bea beside her owner, slightly exaggerating her dopey eyes, her tongue poking out a little. When he was done, he blew off the pencil shaving and admired his finished work for a moment before putting his journal away into his bag. The smell of mint wafted into the room, his stomach grumbling at the thought of food. He hadn’t eaten since this morning and it was well into the night now.

Arthur climbed out of bed, mindful of his leg, deciding that he wasn’t going to lie there like he was in some hotel waiting for workers to be served. Nyx had done more than enough already, he would feel guilty if he did throw his weight in somewhere. He purposefully put weight in his footsteps, the wooden floorboards creaking underneath as he opened the door to the main room.

The woman stood with her back to him, bent over the fireplace, dressed in all black clothing with a dark purple waistcoat, hair pulled back into a low bun. She turned her head to the side when she heard him approach, her scarred jaw exposed to him. Bea gave a yap when she saw him, rushing over and he gave a low laugh, hand out to pat her head.

“I thought I told you not to move your leg for a couple of hours?” She talked to him like a mother would scold a child and Arthur fidgeted, a flare of annoyance passing through him at her tone.

“Well, I don’t listen much,” He retorted, eyes boring holes into the back.

Nyx sighed, standing up to her full height and turning to face him, eyebrow quirked, “Clearly,”

“Well, I suppose if you’re trying to make yourself useful, you could chop those carrots over there, if that’s not too difficult for you,” She winked, that mischievous glint back in her eye again and Arthur felt his cheeks warm, wishing he had his hat to hide behind.

“I’m sure I’ll be able to manage,” He turned away, going over to the counter on the right wall where carrots were.

Arthur shrugged off his tan leather jacket, draping across the back of the chair and rolling the sleeves of his white shirt up. He dipped his hands into the water basin, drying them off with the nearby towel before grabbing the kitchen knife and absentmindedly chopping, letting his mind wonder yet again.

He wondered if the Gang had gone looking for him, being that he’d run off following trouble when he’d left Mac and Davey, it probably hadn’t looked good. He hoped that they weren’t, he had disappeared for days at a time when the law was after him, so they probably weren’t all that worried. He’d probably leave at morning, using the forests as cover as he avoided the main roads.

There was a sharp prick against his left index finger then and he let out a sharp gasp, pulling his finger away and bringing it to his mouth. Thankfully, he’d done it before he managed to bleed all over the food.

“Thought you said you could manage it,” Nyx’s voice came, the woman appearing right next to him, her hip leaning against the counter, arms crossed and looking amused.

“I seem to have underestimated my cooking skills,” She laughed, the bell like sound making the corner of his lips quirk up.

“Don’t worry, sit down, foods nearly done,” She patted him on the shoulder to get him to move.

Arthur didn’t argue, letting her get on with it, feeling like he was a burden more than anything. He sat down at the table, Bea between his legs, her head resting on his foot. There was a glass of whiskey already on the table and he gladly took it, the all too familiar burn of the alcohol soothing him. He wouldn’t drink too much this time, the last time he had around her ending one of the first intimate moments he’d had with a woman in a very long time.

Arthur didn’t think he’d bring up that moment again, assuming that she’d probably forgotten about it altogether despite how much it seemed to be in the most vivid thing he thought about the longer he was around her. He was a fool, the first nice woman to show him affectionate since Mary and he was acting like a teenager who’d been touched for the first time. The man pushed the thought away and into the box, knowing that he’d sworn off falling for women since the last, there would be none of that now.

A bowl was placed down in front of him, the scent of the food making his stomach rumble once again. Nyx went to sit opposite him and he waited for her to be seated before he started to eat, feeling rude if he did so. Once she started to dig in, he did as well, taking a bite of the stew. It was a little chewy and not as good as Pearson’s cooking but he wasn’t about to complain, grateful for her hospitality that he didn’t at all deserve.

He went to voice his thoughts but he beat her too it, having obviously expected his words.

“If you’re going to thank me again, I might just stab you with my fork, this is the least I could do for what you did,” The threat was clear in her eyes, shining against the flickering light of the candle but he could see the mirth behind it, so he wasn’t too worried.

That much.

It did feel strange to him however when someone thanked him for his acts, most cursed or spat on him but he did welcome the praise, albeit reluctantly due to the new feeling. He cleared his throat, taking another bit of his food as he mulled over what to say in response.

“It just didn’t sit right with me see three men following’ a woman, despite how well she can handle herself,” He added the last part on with a rush, seeing how she was about to protest.

“What was it with those fellas and you anyways?” He gestured towards her with his fork, the question having been on his mind ever since they’d ran away from Blackwater.

Nyx took a swig of her gin then and Arthur’s eyebrows rose higher and higher the longer she drank. When she was done, she placed the bottle back on the table again, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand in a very unladylike manner.

“That’s a long story,” She drew out the word long in emphasis and the secretive nature around the events that had led her to earlier today had only made him even more curious.

Arthur lent forward in his seat, staring at her expectantly and she sighed, taking another sip of her drink before she dived into her story.

“In the state of South Riviera, I’m know there as a gun for hire who had information about places to rob and what not. So, in August, these group of men come to me, telling me they wanna know when the next wagon with goods from California is gonna pass through. I tell them I’ll tell them, if they let me work the job with them. Naturally, they agree and I tell them to meet me at Widow’s Rest in a few days’ time,”

Arthur sat transfixed, just who in the hell was this woman?

“When it comes to, their leader is there, a man named Joseph Sand,” The name was spat out so venomously that Arthur flinched, Bea starting to whine underneath his feet.

Nyx turned away from Arthur, body language tightening, like a coil winding up ready to spring at any moment. Eyes flashed dangerously, her jaw clenching and nostrils flaring. Arthur watched her warily as she clutched her fork tightly and he shifted in his seat.

“Who’s this Sand?” Arthur’s gruff voice seemed to bring her back to reality, her body relaxing instantly as a breath left her lips. She didn’t look at him again however, staring emptily into her half-finished bowl.

“Sand’s an… old friend, he and I go way back, I had my face hidden but I could tell he knew who I was. I went along with the robbery, knowing I needed the money but the moment I let my guard down, knocked me out and I woke up at their camp,”

That cheeky glint was back again as she locked eyes with him, the corner of her lip curled up, looking extremely devilish.

“That was their first and only mistake. When I saw sure they were sleeping, I stole what I could, tied Sand up, started a fire at the camp as a distraction and was gone with Sand before they even realised, we were gone. Dropped him off in the nearest town and got a bounty as an added bonus. They’d been chasing me ever since, until this afternoon that is,” She finished, taking a sip of gin to signal so.

All Arthur could do was stare at her with a mixture of amusement, incredulity and confusion, wondering how in the hell she had so much experience to pull something like that off, _alone._ She seemed far too young to have that kind of skill, it was almost suspicious. He knew there was probably more to that but he felt that it wasn’t his place to ask. For a second, he thought about offering her a place in their gang, knowing they could certainly use someone with her skill in their group. He would have to mull over that thought later.

“Well shit. You know how to attract trouble, miss,” Was all he could think to say to her, leaning back into his seat, giving a huff of laughter.

“You don’t know the half of it, cowboy,” She quipped, leaning forward, resting her elbows on the table and placing her chin atop her closed fist, eyes glittering.

“What about you? You have any exciting tales of the outlaw life?” She wondered, a teasing edge in her voice.

“You implyin’ I’m a good for nothin’ criminal miss?” He fired back, finding it incredibly easy to bounce off this woman’s humour, something he found extremely refreshing.

“Well it takes one to know one does it not?” Her head tilted to the side, a stray lock of hair falling past her face, passing over her eyes, which she blew away.

Arthur considered her for a moment, her relaxed body language and the eyes that seem to enrapture him so. There was something dangerous about her, not in the way she could fight or take down men, but in the way, she seemed to reel him in. He believed it wasn’t intentional but he could never be too careful. He was treading on thin ice here and he had to be careful. But, in this moment, he felt at peace, being away from a group of people that would annoy him almost every day making him feel relaxed.

Arthur indulged in himself, and her, for the time being, a tale (albeit vague) of botched jobs falling from his lips easily. Throughout the night, they swapped stories, laughing and drinking, finding one another good company. It was only when both started to become a little weary, eyes drooping and words started to slur. Both stood at the same time, Nyx collecting the dirty dishes while Arthur collected his jacket. She brushed past Arthur, his gaze following her movement as she put the bowls in the tub to soak.

“I…” Nyx trailed off, suddenly looking sheepish, unlike the confident persona she seemed to be.

“Good night, Arthur,” She told him softly, moving over to the door that was beside the fireplace.

Arthur started to limp backwards to where his temporary room was on the other side of the cabin, a tense atmosphere rising between them.

“Good night, Nyx,” He replied, turning around and putting as much distance between them as possible.

He knew what would happen if they both lingered too long; with alcohol flowing through their blood once again and spending all day with each other was a dangerous combination that he wouldn’t allow. What either didn’t realise was that they glanced back at one another when the other wasn’t looking.

*

Arthur awoke to sunlight streaming through the broken window opposite him, piercing his sapphire eyes when they fluttered open, causing him to wince. He reached up and wiped his hand down his face, a long yawn falling past his lips. He lay there for a few moments, staring up at the rotten wood as he tried to wake himself up but didn’t spend too long there, knowing that it was time he got a move on, feeling as though he’d overstayed his welcome at this point. His leg protested at this movement, the wound within the bandages throbbing when he placed his bare feet against the floor.

Arthur paused for a moment, hands leaning against the edge of bed, fingernails digging into the mattress as he willed the pain away. The alcohol from last night had numbed his pain to a degree but that was out of his system now, so the sharp feeling was more vivid than before. Despite that, he tugged his boots back on, he’d been through worse before a bullet to the leg not being as awful as to what he’d experienced before. He stood to his full height then, shrugging on his jacket and wrapping his holster belt securely around his hips, checking his trusted Cattleman Revolver as well.

Once he was satisfied, he placed his satchel over his shoulder and left the room in search of Nyx. The interior of the cabin was empty and not in terms of the lack of life. The place was stripped of anything that had once made it look like it had been lived in, in fact it looked like no one had lived in here at all. Arthur ventured outside next, which was where he found her.

Her eyes were closed, basking in the warmth of the early morning light and it shone against her dark tanned skin. There was a cigarette in her left hand, the plumes of smoke billowing into the air, an open book that held pressed flowers on her lap being left untouched. She was back in her full gear again, black flat hat atop her head once more and her leather duster covering her body. He stood hovering at the door way, torn between wanting to join her but not wanting to destroy her peace.

She made that decision for him when she turned her head to face him, a small smile gracing her lips when she did.

“Good morning, Mister Morgan,” She greeted and he gingerly walked down the steps.

“Mornin’” He replied, seating himself beside her on the rickety steps.

Nyx extended her cigarette to him in a silent offer and it was one he took gladly. Arthur took a long drag, welcoming the smoke that filled his lungs and the taste of tobacco with a warm embrace. Once he was done, he passed it back to her and she finished it off, throwing it to the ground and stomping on it after. His eyes followed the moment, his gaze landing on the heavy looking satchel that sat between her feet and Bea, who was dozing off.

“You leavin’?” He wondered, feeling disappointed.

Nyx sighed, not to answering his question for a moment as she gathered her bag, placing her book back in it, Bea standing to attention at her owners’ movement. The woman stood up then and Arthur mimicked her but chose to lean against the stairs bannister while she flittered over to the horse who whinnied when she drew near. Nyx laughed lowly, grabbing an apple out of her bag and feeding it to the horse who greedily took it.

“Yeah, I think its time for me to move on,” Nyx patted the horse’s neck, collecting the reigns with her other hands while Arthur watched on.

Nyx lead the horse over to Arthur, holding out the reigns, clearly asking him to take her. Arthur opened his mouth in protest, refusing to take anymore from her than he’d already received. She’d saved his life, patched his leg up, fed him, given him a place to lie low and now she was offering him a horse? This was far too much from what he deserved and this was the last straw he was going to take.

“I-, I can’t, you’ve done enough as it is,”

“You can and you will, let this be my last gift,” She reinforced, her tone stern again that had him pursing his lips in irritation.

“Besides-,” That all too knowing gleam and the curve of her lip started to form.

“You can’t exactly go back to wherever you’re staying with your leg like that, it’d take you at least a couple weeks,” He rolled his eyes, reluctantly taking the reigns from her, his rough fingertips brushing against hers.

“That’s a slight exaggeration, don’t you think? Arthur patted the horse’s snout.

He grabbed a wild carrot out his bag and feeding it to them, the horse taking it greedily.

“If the law finds you, you’re not gonna get very far by hobbling away from them,”

“You’re real funny,” He told her dryly and she snickered.

“So, I’ve been told,”

A light breeze passed over them, causing the both of them to shiver. Neither said anymore, not wanting to spoil the calm atmosphere but he knew it’d have to end sooner or later if they were to go their separate ways soon. Arthur decided it break it by attempted to climb on the horse, finding it difficult to do so with his leg. He felt a hand on shoulder and saw Nyx smiling at him gently. She bent down, cupping her hands and Arthur used that as a foothold, grabbing her good shoulder and she pushed him up, Arthur easily getting on the horse.

The horse whined at his added weight and he soothed it with a gentle stroke of his hand. Arthur looked down at Nyx whose hands were resting on her hips.

“What will you do now?” He wondered and she glanced away, gazing into the dense forest beside them.

“Go back to South Riviera most likely now that the Sand’s aren’t there to chase me out, go looking for work in Whitehorse. There’s not much in New Austin or West Elizabeth these days,” She explained to him, a certain type of weariness in her words.

Arthur regarded her words, she seemed lonely and it sounded to him that she wandered the world in search of work alone. Dutch always told him that a lone wolf wouldn’t survive out of the plains for very long. He thought of her skill and how she was seemingly good with information if she was known as source of it in the state of South Riviera. She’d be a good addition to the gang and if he liked her, he was sure the others would.

“Y’know, there’s a group of us on the outskirts of West Elizabeth, in the same line of work as you do. We ain’t good people, I’m certainly not, but we’re better than most and you don’t have to alone no more,” He explained and he was disappointed when she still didn’t look at him.

In fact, her face was twisted into a deep frown, body tense, fingers digging into the leather of her jacket. Bea whined, pressing her nose against Nyx’s hand and the woman seemed to calm at the dog’s actions. She turned to face him after that, something haunted and vulnerable glittering in her gaze that was gone the moment Arthur realised it was there.

“I… me and big groups don’t mix all that well,” She told him, a weak smile gracing her soft features.

“I understand,” Arthur tried not to let his disappointment bleed into his words but if her wince was anything to go by, it had.

“But-” She started and he perked up.

“But if you and your group want to work on any tips, I might consider it. I hear there’s a train from California coming in to West Elizabeth in a couple weeks,” Her impish mask was back again, albeit weakly and Arthur’s eyebrows rose.

“We might just take you up on that, where will you be?” He told her, grateful for _something_.

The gang’s scores had been running extremely dry as of late and he gladly took her tip.

“Whitehorse, it’s a town just along the border between New Austin and South Riviera, I’m just gonna catch a train now,”

“Want a ride?” He offered despite what he knew her answer was going to be.

She shook her head, waving him off and Arthur nearly let out a groan of frustration. The woman was one of the most stubborn people’s he’d ever met, it damn near wanted to make him rip his hair out. He thought about one last offer, something that she couldn’t refuse this time. Arthur looked down at the unnamed horse underneath him and an idea popped into my mind.

“Before you go, name my horse for me,” He offered.

Nyx’s eyebrow rose and a genuine smile befell her lips. She ambled forward, gloved hand outstretched, fingertips brushing the stallion’s mane, titling its head to the side in response. Nyx’s eyebrows furrowed in thought, her nose scrunching and the tip of tongue escaping her mouth. Her face brightened suddenly and she glanced up at him.

“Boudica,” Arthur stared at her in confusion.

“Boudica?”

“Yeah, what do you think?”

Arthur mulled the strange name over for a few moments, staring at his horse, studying her as he got to grips with it.

“I like it,” He informed her, patting the newly named Boudica’s neck.

“Good,” The woman smiled up at him and he returned hers with a flicker in the quirk of his lips.

Nyx cleared her throat, feet starting to guide her backwards, an obvious cue that she was on her way, Bea following her. Arthur felt a pang of melancholy stab at him then, hating whenever someone left but assurance soothed over the pain, knowing that he was bound to see her again due to the tip on the score she had.

“I’ll see you around, Arthur Morgan,” She tipped her head in a silent gesture, which he returned, starting to veer Boudica to the left towards the thick forest.

“Stay out of trouble you hear!” He hollered as the distance between them grew.

“I make no such promises!” Was all she said before she spun on her heel.

For a moment Arthur watched her go into the woods, catching her glancing back at him when she stood on the outline of the forest. A couple of seconds later, she stepped into the woods, her dark figure morphing into the shadows until she was blended in so well that Arthur lost sight of her and Bea. He nicked his heels against Boudica’s sides, her trot forming into a canter as he moved them to the path that Nyx had taken them through earlier.

As he rode, he felt something heavy weigh in his pocket. Curious, he dipped his hand into his pocket, hands brushing against something he knew all too well along with something else. He fished it out of his pocket, finding a wad of cash in his hand, a single white flower that he recognised to be jasmine beside it. Arthur shook his head in disbelief, a breathy laugh leaving his lips, having not felt quite so light in a long time.


	5. The Return

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for deleting this one! Wanted to add more because I really don't want to drag the story out pfft, I have a lot planned for this story so!  
> Also, this is probably the biggest chapter I've ever written, I'm so motivated about this fic, enjoy and thank you for the support!

The sun was still high in the sky when Arthur returned to camp, the weather having been consistently good throughout his ride back. He had made sure to stay away from Blackwater, sticking to the outskirts of the trees and riding along the Upper Montana River, taking the longest route possible.  

It allowed him time to have time to himself and to bond with his new horse, Boudica much better than the horse he was using beforehand. He’d probably sell the Morgan when the heat died down in Blackwater, the money Nyx had given him probably enough to pay off his bounty. As he approached the tree line, there was a click of the gun, signalling that someone had seen him but had yet to identify him.

“Hey, who’s that?” The annoying voice of Bill Williamson came, grating Arthur’s ears and annoyance quickly filling him.

“It’s Arthur, dumbass,” He yelled, pulling on Boudica’s reigns to bring her into a trot as he moved past the man.

Bill looked up at him underneath his stupid hat, lowering his rifle, “Where’ve you been, Morgan?”

Arthur ignored Bill as he strolled into camp, not wanting to waste his time in talking to the fool. Ever since the man had joined them last year, he’d been a pain in his ass; always too loud, too stupid for Arthur’s quiet nature.

It was Javier, who was sitting against a tree, that spotted him when he came to the main camp area, the man announcing that he’d returned. Everyone rushed out of their tents then, all gathering around him, starting to ask a million and one question; where’d he been? Why was his face up for bounty in Blackwater? Who was that woman the Callander brothers had seen him going after?

His stallion started to fuss at the amount of people and Arthur patted her neck and brushed her mane in hopes to sooth her. When that didn’t work, he hopped off her back, landing on his good leg, avoiding putting a weight on his injured one lest Nyx’s hard work go to waste. Arthur stood in front of the crowd awkwardly, who still bombarded him with questions that he wasn’t going to answer, it wasn’t any of their business. The attention was slowly starting to make his anxiety rise and he was thankful when Dutch and Hosea pushed through the sea of people.

“Scram, let the poor man relax,” Dutch told the crowd sternly.

Everyone pulled a face but didn’t protest, knowing there’d be consequences if they went against their leader’s word. They all dispersed quickly, though Arthur saw Mac and Davey linger, Trelawny with them. Arthur was surprised to say the least, assuming that the man would be staying in town, always complaining about how they all slept in the rough whenever he was here.

“Arthur! You look terrible,” Hosea said in a way of greeting that had Arthur rolling his eyes in good nature.

“Hello to you too, old man,” He retorted.

Arthur started to shift in his spot as the pain of standing up for too long began to make his wound throb. They must have picked up on that because they shared a look before Dutch came over, patting Arthur on the shoulder, hand staying as he started to guide the both of them forward, Hosea coming to stand on his other side.

“What happened son? The brothers and Mister Trelawny came back yesterday evening, tellin’ us that you’d run off after some men,” Dutch started.

“Yes, men who’d all ended up dead in an alleyway and the law looking for a man and a woman who’d done it, you’re real lucky they don’t know who it was,” Hosea’s words put him at ease a little, glad that there wasn’t a bounty on his head but he’d probably stay away from Blackwater for a while.

The three sat down in Dutch’s tent, Hosea and Dutch resting on the latter’s cot, while Arthur took the chair facing opposite them, stretching out his leg and wincing at the strain of it.

“It’s a long story,”

The two men only started at him expectedly and Arthur felt very uncomfortable, as though two parents were about to scold their child for their behaviour. He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, the rough callouses of his fingertips not soothing the tension that slowly started to build up at the base of his skull. Regardless of how he felt, he dived into his story, his two father figures observed him with rapt attention as he detailed the events of the past day.

He informed them that he’d met the woman, Nyx, before at the saloon in Blackwater and hid her from men looking for her. He distinctly left out the part as to _how_ he’d done that, still trying to pretend it hadn’t happened. Then he described how he’d seen the same men following her months later and went after them. He was interrupted when Dutch started to laugh and Hosea gave a snort, which caused Arthur to frown.

“What’s so funny?” They didn’t answer, instead, his words made them laugh harder and Arthur felt his temper rise.

“Arthur Morgan, who would have thought you’d a knight in shining armour riding into to save the damsel in distress from the fierce dragons!” Hosea choked out between wheezy laughter.

Dutch’s face going bright red as his loud laughter turned silent. Arthur crossed his arms against his chest, slumping back into his chair like a sulking teenager. It took them a good five minutes to calm down and Arthur had good mind to leave the tent and never tell them the rest of story but he knew couldn’t do them, especially when he had information about a good score.

“You done?” He snapped as the men wiped tears from their eyes, nodding to signal that they were quite finished with their childish antics.

“Yes, yes, do continue, son,”

“Well if you must know, I was more of the damsel in this scenario. That woman killed two men and stole a horse right under everyone’s noses. We hid in the woods up in Big Valley, she patched me up after I got shot. That woman saved my life, if she hadn’t that man could’ve killed me or I would waiting to be hanged right about now,” He finished, sitting straighter than last time, suddenly feeling very passionate with his words.

Dutch and Hosea were silent this time, staring at him in bewilderment, taking in what Arthur had just told them.

“Who the hell is this woman?” Dutch exclaimed.

“No idea but,” Arthur paused, leaning forward in his chair, trying to be quiet about this, the two men mimicking his actions.

“What I do know, is that she gave me a tip, ‘bout a train that runs from California to West Elizabeth, apparently coming in a couple of weeks,” He lowered his voice as he spoke, not wanting the whole camp to hear, in case he got their hopes up.

Everyone had been struggling with the lack of jobs and it was making fights happen within the Gang, everyone getting antsy that they couldn’t go out and do what outlaws did best because there was nothing for them to do. It was hard on everyone and Arthur hoped that Nyx’s lead gave them something, they were all at breaking point. His confidence started to flicker when he saw the confusion and slight suspicion gracing both older men’s features.

“We already knew about that, that’s the lead Trelawny gave us yesterday,” Dutch told him and for a moment, their confusion bled into him, his mind whirring and trying to understand what they were telling him.

Where more people involved in this train? What was special about it? There must be something valuable on there if more than one person knew about it. But to Arthur didn’t make sense, Nyx seemed to be the only one that knew about it, like she held all the cards to her chest. It clicked in his mind then, just as Trelawny appeared at the front of the tent, the strong, sickly smell of aftershave filling the small area.

“I see you’ve encounter Miss Nyx, my dear boy,” Trelawny informed him, that usual smug expression etched onto his face.

Arthur leaned back into his seat, giving a small laugh at the absurdity, rubbing his stubbled cheek in disbelief. _That damn woman._ He didn’t have a chance to reply to Trelawny as Dutch began to take charge of the situation.

“And just who is this woman, Mister Trelawny?” The man repeated, this time knowing he’d get an answer as Trelawny had almost all the information about many kinds of people across America. Said man came deeper into the tent, coming to rest both hands atop his cane, foot crossing over the other.

“A feisty young lady that Nyx, always getting into trouble when she shouldn’t,”

Arthur snorted.

“Twenty-four years old, fled to America after being wanted dead in Mexico, she never told me quite why, not matter how much I try to squeeze it out of her. We exchange information that we need from one another, she’s stationed in the town of Whitehorse in the state of South Riviera, a ghastly place,” He explained.

“Yes, I know the place, horrible little town filled with thugs, murderers, it’s outlaw city that the law won’t touch,” Hosea added on.

Arthur looked over to Dutch, an all too familiar twinkle shining in his brown eyes against the afternoon sunlight the streamed in beside him. The younger man could see the gears turning in his head and he wondered what his friend was thinking, knowing that a plan was quickly being formulated. Dutch stood from the cot then and they all watched him, ready to listen to whatever grand scheme he had in mind.

“Hosea, Arthur, I want you two to head to Whitehorse, get more information about this train seeing as this girl’s the only one who knows a damn thing about it. Maybe even convince her to join us,” He stated, reaching over to his pipe that rested on a barrel beside his cot.

“I already tried that, said she’d think about it,” Arthur informed him and a wave of displeasure washed over his mentor’s face, clearly not liking Arthur’s words.

“Well, it’s a good thing Mister Matthews will be joining you then. No offence Arthur but you ain’t the best with words,” Dutch teased, patting both men on the shoulder as he moved passed them, a trail of smoke being left in his wake.

Arthur refrained from rolling his eyes at Dutch’s amusement but the clearly irate expression that had wormed its way onto his face made Hosea beside him snicker.

“We’ll leave tomorrow morning, Arthur, no doubt you need some rest after an exciting day,” Hosea voiced, something that he was grateful for.

The older gentleman moved out of the tent then, falling into quiet conversation with Trelawny whilst Arthur headed towards his own.

“Have faith, Arthur, I’ve got a good feeling about this one!”

*

It taken her longer than expected to return back to South Riviera, her train having been stopped half way through due to bandits stopping the train much to her annoyance. Nyx had snuck out of the train when they came on board, not particularly wanting to get into yet another fight. She’d had more than enough of those lately and quite frankly, she wanted to go be back in the comfort of her saloon room back in Whitehorse. She had walked, or rather, ran away from the scene, deciding that it was probably safer that way.

After that, she hadn’t run into anymore trouble save for wolves that Bea scared off, which earned her a lot of affection. She stopped off at Ridgewood Farm for the night, hiding away within the hay of their barn and stealing a horse before anyone even knew she was there.

The stallion, a Nokota with a blue coat that bucked her off more times than she could count on route, always running off when she did, which caused Bea to chase after her before he got too far from her. She was skittish, fierce and caused her a lot of strife, which lead to the rather appropriate name of Eris. She had thought about selling her to the horse fence in Whitehorse but once she named a horse, she became attached.

Eris proved a worthy stead, managing to get her back to Whitehorse the same day, a journey that would have taken her a few more if she were to go on foot. It was late afternoon when she strolled back into the town upon her steed, Bea following closely behind. The dysfunctional town full of life as it always was; fights were occurring within home, standoffs were happening in the middle of streets, men and woman entangled in each other within alleyways that weren’t so hidden from everyone else.

Whitehorse was one of the worst places in all of the United States, nicknamed Hell by whoever would mention it but it had been something Nyx had, hesitantly, called home for the past year or so. It was where she’d found her footing in the outlaw life within America, quickly making a name for herself as a mercenary with all the right information, that she often stole from important figures up in the city of Roosevelt north east of here. She liked to think all the training she’d had since she was thirteen actually went to good use.

Nyx guided Eris over to the stable, telling the unfamiliar stable hand that she was keeping her here and not selling, giving him a few extra bills to ensure that her horse stayed safe and wasn’t stolen by some idiots in town. Eris gave the boy a lot of trouble when Nyx started to leave, the woman having to give her horse an apple to calm her down, the food sating her and leaving room for Nyx to disappear.

Nyx dipped her hand into her satchel, fiddling with her cash and sighing at the thinness of it. She’d given Arthur around thirty dollars and along with the train ticket that was six, she didn’t have that much left, barely even fifty dollars to her name. She had a few trinkets she could pawn off to the fence in town which could get her another twenty but it was never enough, not when she needed the money to go elsewhere.

Nyx decided she’d think about her dilemma later, itching for a good drink and ready to reacquaint herself with this oh so lovely town. She headed of the saloon that resided on the other side of the street, already looking busy. It was one of two saloons within the town but it was the more popular one, hence why she made it her base of operations. The owner, Eli, was a close associate of hers, the man indebted to her after she saved his life in Mexico many years ago. When she had come to Whitehorse for the first time, he had given her a permanent room, which allowed her to get her footing.

“Nyx! Miss Nyx is back!” A high-pitched voice came from beside her as walked past an alleyway, causing her to pause in her tracks.

A sudden swarm of four children trickled out from the alleyway, like ants coming out from a hill and Bea yapped when they approached, bounding over to which they squealed. They all came around her, circling her like vultures would over the dead and she clutched her satchel closer to her. She had gotten to know the kids of the town; Rosa, Simon, Penny and Sam, well during her time here. Rosa and Sam were siblings, their father being the local fence, Penny’s parents were around but never took much notice of her whilst Sam was an orphan but practically Eli’s adopted son.

At first, she hadn’t wanted anything to do with them, being around children far too painful for her but they had grown on her like fungus. No matter how adorable she found them, she always kept her guard, knowing what they were like and it hurt her a lot less.

“I’ve got my eyes on you, you little shits,” She informed them sternly but with a mirthful tone hidden underneath.

They stopped dancing around her, coming to stand in front of her, hopeful glints in their eyes that was far more sinister beneath.

“You can’t talk to children like that Miss Nyx!” Rosa mock gasped, fake tears filling her eyes at Nyx’s language that made the older woman roll her eyes.

“I’ve heard you say far worse Little Miss Rosa,” Nyx commented, moving forward and the children parting to allow her to move, quickly following her as they tried to keep up with her longer strides.

“So, what’s been happening since I’ve been gone?” She wondered, looking at them all expectantly for answer.

The children looked anywhere but her and Nyx let out a sigh of frustration, knowing exactly what they were doing and like always, she gave in.

“First one to tell me get five dollars and a bar of chocolate,” They all sprung into action then, all shouting over one another, trying to get their voices to be heard. It was Simon’s that broke through, his deeper one overpowering everyone else’s.

“All of Sands are gone, O’Driscolls started to move in on their territory. Couple of lawmen came through, they’re all hanging on the tree up the hill now and some Mexican’s came into town looking for a… Lou? Luna Cruz or something and her kid, but they left because no one knew who that was,” Nyx quirked an eyebrow up at the information, her face remaining indifferent at it.

She was pleased nonetheless, glad to be caught up to speed with it all. She dipped a gloved hand into her satchel, keeping an eye on them all as she did, fishing out the promised chocolate and money, throwing it other to Sam whilst all the other kids protested. She ruffled Rosa’s hair, the girl the closest to her affectionately, patting Simon on the back and winking at Penny.

“Get lost now, it’ll get late soon,” She commanded and they obliged, running off squealing as Bea barked at them playfully.

Nyx watched them go with a gentle smile, heart starting to ache at the sight of their glee, hands trembling at her side. Bea whined beside her, obviously sensing her anxiety, wet nose pressing against her hand, tongue licking her fingertips. The woman calmed instantly, rubbing Bea behind her ears, her worries washing away. Her dog had been a constant source of support for her ever since she’d left Mexico and she honestly didn’t know what she’d do without her.

Nyx started to make her way back to the saloon, stopping just outside the swinging door to fix her mask back onto her face, the walls surrounding her as she told herself that she was brave and that she wasn’t weak. Once she felt the curl of her lips form, she waltzed into the building, a silence commencing when she did, everyone peering at her as though as were a stranger. Had she really been gone that long? After a few seconds, everyone went back to their business and Nyx felt disappointed there was no welcome party, pouting slightly.

In the corner of her eye, she saw someone approach her, dressing in white and purple, blonde hair curled and a small smile on her face.

“Well, well, if it ain’t Little Miss Trouble,” Karen Jones greeted, cocking her hip, planting a closed fist against it.

“Good to see you to Miss Jones,” Nyx tipped her hat at the woman, who rolled her eyes at her antics.

Karen moved over to her, linking their arms together and guided Nyx through the crowd of people. They waltzed over to the bar in silence to where Eli stood serving alcohol to rowdy customers, Bea following closely at their heels.

 “I heard that you got messed up with that Sand gang, nasty bunch of fellas what happened?” Karen wondered, the pair taking seats at the bar in front of Eli, who decided to join in on the conversation.

“Stupid girl somehow managed to piss them off enough that they kidnapped her and took her back with them,” Eli quipped, raising a dark eyebrow at her, brown eyes staring at her emotionlessly like they did with everyone else.

Nyx let out an offended gasp, grabbing the glass of gin he’d placed before her despite his rudeness but that was all a part of his lovely charm that she had come to bare since she’d met him again for the second time. Beside her, Karen snickered beside her and she kicked her chair in retaliation, Karen choking on her beer.

“If you must know, burned their camp down, took Sand in for a bounty but they knew where I was staying so I ran off to Blackwater for a bit. The rest of them are all dead now, thank God, I can finally live freely in the beautiful town of Whitehorse,” She explained, flourishing her arms, glass in hand and the other two only rolled their eyes, not at all amused by her antics.

“Yeah, Eli’s right, you’re stupid,” Karen tipped her bottle to the barkeep and Eli snorted.

“Of all the people I could’ve picked to be my friends in this sorry town, I chose two people who enjoy nothing but being nasty to me, I see it is,” She quipped dramatically and Karen bumped her shoulder in good nature.

Nyx quickly finished off her drink, the drowsy effects of it already taking hold, her weariness of the last few days finally catching up with her. She placed the empty glass back down on the countertop, going to stand and Karen gazed at her in disappointment.

“Now if you two fools will excuse me, I need some sleep and a goddamn bath,” At the least part, she stared at Eli expectantly, the older man rolling his eyes once again.

“They had it going the moment I saw you come in,” He informed her, moving away when a drunken customer at the other end of the bar demanded his attention.

“Want some company?” Karen offered, getting that look in her eye that made Nyx shuffle in her spot uncomfortably.

No matter how many times Karen tried to get into her pants, Nyx always refused, never allowing herself to be so intimate with someone, knowing that it hurt a lot less that way. Ever since leaving Mexico, she had sworn of getting close to people, it was safer for everyone. Nyx gave Karen a dry look, the latter rolling her eyes and turning back to face the front of the bar.

“God, I can’t wait to see the day that someone finally breaks those walls of yours down,” Karen voiced and Nyx sighed, knowing she wouldn’t be too happy with her answer.

Nyx didn’t say anymore, patting Karen’s shoulder in a meek apology before moving on. She squeezed through the people milling about, holding her breath as she did, the foul smell of sweaty men wafting through her sense. Nyx headed through the door behind the bar, turning right towards her permanent room.

When she entered, the beautiful smell of Jasmine the first thing she took note of, instantly making her feel relaxed. One of the serving girls, Yolanda if she remembered her name correctly, jumped when she realised that Nyx had entered, quickly moving to leave the room. Before she did, Nyx gave a tip which she took gladly.

Once the door shut behind her, Nyx started to strip, wincing as her clothes seemed to stick to her skin. As she did, she was mindful of her shoulder, not wanting to knock it. She dumped all her clothes in the basket in the corner of the room, knowing that they’d be washed for her tomorrow.

Without wasting anymore time, she jumped in the bath, the hot water an absolute blessing to her tired muscles, an unabashed moan falling from her lips, feeling all the stress that had been building up. At the edge of the tub, Bea rested her head, giving a whine at seeing her owner in the water and not being able to join in. Nyx sighed, feeling herself give in almost immediately.

“Come on then,”

Before she even managed to finish, Bea jumped into the bath, water splashing everywhere and sloshing over the tub. Nyx gave a childlike squeal, Bea barking gleefully in response, hopping up and down as much as she could in the limited space of the bath. Nonetheless, Nyx played with her dog, feeling overjoyed and in the next few hours allowed the joy to consume her, forgetting about the worries that plagued her mind every day.

*

The next morning, Nyx sat in one of the booths in the corner of the bar, feet propped up on the table, hat covering her eyes, ebony hair twisted into a low bun, a few pieces of hair framing her sharp features. Her duster was hidden away in her bedroom, leaving her in her black shirt and purple waistcoat, a purple bandana wrapped around her neck, her black pinstriped trousers tucked into her boots. Bea was asleep in her room, the dog completely dead to the world, all the excitement of messing around in the bath last night far too much for her.

A book detailing the wildlife of America was in hand, Nyx’s attention completely fixated on it.  The bar was shut for the morning as it always was while Eli ran chores around town and she took advantage of the quiet, not wanting to be cooped up in her room all morning. Besides, someone might come wandering through for work, a part of her silently hoping that Arthur was going to come find her.

Truth be told, she liked the man; he was interesting, funny and he seemed like a good man, those types were hard to come by these days. The offer of joining his group had been on her mind on her way back to Whitehorse, debating whether or not to take him up on it. She had sworn off being a part of a gang a long, long time again, knowing that everything around her always ended in disaster, it was better to be alone, no matter how difficult it was.

But Arthur Morgan had been a light in her lonely darkness, his company making her rethink her whole lone wolf persona, putting her life in perspective. There was only so long she could keeping running by herself, waiting for someone to hire her and it was beginning to fail now. Nyx was pulled from her thoughts when a loud bang resounding across the bar, making her jolt in her seat.

On the other side of the bar was little Rosa, the saloon door slammed against the wall. Nyx studied her for a moment, finding her clothes mudded and torn, a cut on her cheek and tears streaming down her face. Anger boiled in her blood, slamming her book down on the table and quickly hurrying over to the girl, who met her half way. 

“Rosa! What happened?” Nyx wondered gently, coming to kneel down to look the scared girl in the eye.

“The-they-” The girl couldn’t continue her words, instead flinging her arms around Nyx’s neck.

She buried her face into Nyx’s shoulder, the woman feeling her black shirt become damp. A fire burned bright in her stomach, her heartbeat racing in fury at the state of the girl. She brought Rosa close, rubbing her back soothingly in attempts to calm her down, knowing that always worked in comfort. Whoever in the hell had touched this girl, she’d kill them. Sure enough, two men walked in, one blonde and muscular, the other skinny, both looking three shades of pissed.

“Where is that little shit, huh?” The blonde one spoke in a voice that made Nyx want to immediately shut them up.

Nyx drew away from the hiccupping Rosa, pushing the girl behind her and standing to her full height.

“Why don’t you fuck off, Mister,” She yelled from across the room as she felt Rosa clutch the back of her shirt.

The pair of them snapped their gazes to her, glancing down to look at Rosa, the anger rising on their faces.

“Bring that girl over here, bitch, she stole my fucking money!” Blondie commanded and her eyes narrowed at the term her address her by.

“You aren’t touching the girl, you hear? Now get the fuck out of here,” She warned and the two men started laughing at her words, something that made her hands curl into fists, hands starting to shake.

“Right, because we’re gonna listen to a little greaser bitch like you,”

Nyx snapped, striding over to the men, forcing Rosa to stay where she was. Once she approached, she brought her arm back and promptly punched Blondie across the face. The man howled, falling back into his friend, the man barely having enough time to catch him due to the quickness of her act. They gazed at her in shock for a moment, Blondie clutching his nose as Skinny held him.

“Call me a bitch one more time, see what happens,” She threatened, feeling the side she buried deep start to rear its ugly head.

A cruel glint came into Blondie’s eyes at her words, hand drawing away from his face, the lower half of his face bloodied.

“Bitch,” He stated, spitting blood out of mouth, spraying it onto her face.

Nyx drew back sharply, flinching at the actions, disgust rolling through her in waves. It was obvious what he was trying to do for Blondie’s fist went flying in her direction. She ducked, Blondie stumbling forward which she used to her advantage, bringing her head back up to knock his chin before kicking her leg up to shove her foot into his stomach, pushing him backward into the beam.

Skinny’s fist connected with her cheek after, her head snapping to one side, hat flying off her head. She blocked his next one and his next, her footing taking her backwards as she tried to look for an opening. Nyx managed to jab him in the ribs, Skinny giving an ‘oof’, hands clutching his middle when she hit the right spot.

She grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, delivering yet another shift punch across his nose. Blondie appeared then pouncing on her before she had the chance to react, his hands wrapped around her throat, squeezing and guiding her backwards until her back hit the edge of the bar.

Nyx slammed her fists down against the crook of his elbow to try and get him to weaken his grip but if anything, it only made his hands tighten around his throat. Black spots started to dance around her vision, her heart starting to race as vivid memories started to come into mind the last time this had happened.

“Pin her down,”

She felt someone grab her arm, pushing it down against the countertop, the palm of her hand facing up. A searing pain pierced her hand, causing her to let out a choked scream, the hands leaving her throat after. It was the only thing holding her up because she sagged when he let go, her hand shooting out to weakly grab the bar to keep her upright. She glared at the men through the curtain of hair, panting heavily as she tried to get as much air into her lungs as possible.

“No so tough now ya, fucking whore,” Blondie quipped, Skinny snorting like a pig beside him.

The corner of Nyx’s eye caught an empty bottle beside her, eyes sliding to the small blur that bound over to them.

“Leave her alone!” Rosa wailed, hitting Blondie’s arm.

The man shoved her away, the girl tripping on her own feet and landing on her backside, fresh tears springing in her eyes. Nyx acted, grabbing the neck of the bottle and throwing it at Blondie’s head, the shards of glass shattering across his face, digging into his skin. Before Skinny had the chance to react, Nyx grabbed the knife’s handle, pulling it out of her hand with a cry and flinging it at Skinny, not caring where it hit.

She jumped on Blondie, slugging him across the face with her good fist, his nose cracking underneath her knuckles. He sprung forward soon after, hand grabbing her hair, fingers entangling themselves into her hair. His other hand grabbed the back of her waistcoat and he started to guide them forward, Nyx giving a good struggle while he did.

He drew her body back and the next thing she knew, she was being thrown through the window. She barely had enough time to cover her face from the glass she crashed into, her body soaring through the air and landing on her side against the muddy ground.

Her shoulder throbbed as she landed on it, her hand screaming at her as she rested it against the ground to try and get up, hearing footsteps approach. Gentle hands looped through one arm, the other resting on her upper arm as she was suddenly lifted from the ground. She whirled around, ready to strike whoever had touched her but her fist stilled in the air when recognition fell over her.

“Arthur?!”


	6. Creatures of the Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter didn't want to work with me at all, I'm sorry this took so long, enjoy!

The journey to Whitehorse had been smoother than Arthur had been anticipating but he wasn’t one to complain, the trip being a somewhat welcome peace to the chaos of days before.

The benefit of the ride had been spending quality time with Hosea, the man always seemed to have the right words to say and the right jokes to tell. Of course, they’d shared stories of the old days, the days when they had been freer in the West before the government had started to crack down on unruly gangs. Hosea had always been more of a father figure to Arthur than Dutch ever had, his warm and charming nature something that Arthur often found comfort in.

Hosea had supported him through it all; the first time he’d killed someone, the guilt that had come with that, the heartbreak Mary had given him many years ago. He taught him many things too; how to steal when no one thought he was looking, how to play poker, how to be a good person despite it all.

Fathers were supposed to be like Hosea, not the piece of shit one that he had been given. Arthur liked to think Hosea viewed him as a son, their bond was unbreakable and something that he truly cherished.

“How long are we gonna be? It feels like we’ve been travellin’ for fuckin’ ever,”

And that was the downside to the trek, in the name of Sean MacGuire.

“Do you ever shut up?” Arthur growled, already feeling a headache come on.

“Never Arthur! The world needs to hear my lovely voice,” Sean quipped cheekily.

Arthur gave a grunt of displeasure, ignoring him after that, wanting to concentrate on the road instead.

Sean hadn’t been with them for that long, a few months at least and he was a damn rascal. He’d been caught by Dutch and Hosea when he’d tried to rob them in Blackwater but he was clearly out-skilled by the two older gentlemen.

Rather than killing the Irishman, they saw potential in him and recruited him to their growing gang. As much as Arthur pretended the man got on his nerves, it was amusing sometimes and certainly made the atmosphere around camp a little lighter.

Arthur caught sight of buildings starting to rise over the horizon, the bleak sky above it making the atmosphere feel dull and foreboding.

“I think we’re approaching Whitehorse now,” Hosea voiced.

The trio rode in silence as they approached, Arthur narrowing his eyes at the area around them, quietly surveying the area. There was a stable on the outskirts on the town, quite a way away from the rest of the town but Hosea in front guided them into the centre of town instead.

They all left their horses by the posts that resided next to a burnt down building, hidden from plain view. Arthur patted Boudica’s neck lovingly, giving her a sugar cube from his satchel to distract her while he is joining Hosea and Sean.

“This is Whitehorse alright, as charming as people have told me,” Hosea said dryly and Arthur snorted, glaring at the men who stood in front of the general store eyeing them all.

“Let’s head to the saloon, that’s always the best place to start,” He continued as they walked past a nameless, rundown building, people watching them from the balcony.

Sean clapped his hands, rubbing them together as though he was about to come up with an ingenious plan, “First round of drinks is on me fellas,”

Arthur rolled his eyes while Hosea in front of him let out a sigh, a hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose in irritation.

“We ain’t here for that you buffoon, it’s business,” Hosea snapped harshly in hopes to get Sean to quieten down but Arthur started to see his face light up in humour.

Sean turned on his heel, walking backwards as he came to stare at Arthur cheekily, the latter tensing up almost immediately, realising what was about to happen.

“Aw, that’s right, we’re looking for Arthur’s little lady!” Sean winked, clearly all too happy with himself over his quip.

Arthur felt his hands clench into fists by his sides, a rush of blood warming his chest and slowly travelling up his neck. If there was one thing Arthur hated was being made fun of, already feeling his already thin self-esteem starting to waver. Plus, he didn’t like the way Sean was taking the direction of the conversation.

“She ain’t my lady,” He grumbled out, which caused Sean’s eyebrows to rise.

“Not what I heard, yous two were off alone in a cabin, ya fuck her?” The manner in which Sean was talking about Nyx made his blood boil.

The term of fucking her made him feel dirty, Sean acting like she was nothing but a whore and he hated it, the woman was more than the bullshit the ginger was spewing. Arthur picked up his pace, coming closer to Sean who’s eyes widened slightly. Hosea stopped in his tracks, whirling around and rushing over.

“You shut your mouth you idiot,” He snapped, feeling himself become taller.

Hosea came in the middle of them, a hand splaying across Arthur’s chest to push him away from the idiot, who only gave Arthur a lopsided grin.

“Ah, she didn’t, no wonder ya still so uptight still,”

That was it, he decided, not so gently moving Hosea out of the way, the older man stumbling backwards. Before Arthur had the chance to give Sean the punch he deserved, there was a sudden crash to his left, causing him to pause in his actions.

He whipped his head to the side to see someone flying out of a window, shards of glass and splinters of wood following them. The stranger landed on their side and Arthur winced at the impact against the hard ground. They started to get up, their head turning to the side, hair falling from their face to reveal someone very familiar and he almost laughed if not for the state she was in.

Arthur hurried over, gently taking her by the crook of the elbow to help her up. She was on him in an instant, fist raised that had him drawing back sharply but recognition came into her eyes when she realised who it was.

“Arthur?!”

...

She stared at the man in bewilderment, lowering her wounded hand and she saw him relax instantly. He tipped his hat at her in greeting, hiding his face for a moment but she caught the quirk of his lip.

“In trouble again?” He wondered, aquamarine eyes sparkling.

A quip was at the tip of her tongue but there was a cry of pain behind her, causing her to spin around, her back brushing against Arthur’s chest. Blondie stumbled down the saloon’s steps but her attention wasn’t focused on him, it was on Rosa, who’s arm was being held tightly in Blondie’s grasp, fresh tears rolling down her face.

The sight made her temper flare, flashes of the past replacing Blondie and Rosa, disappearing as her wounded hand curled into a fist, the pain acting as an anchor for reality. The townspeople were starting to trickle out of their hovels, all gathering around the scene; some watched on in horror, others in amusement. 

“This is getting out of hand now, why don’t you let the girl go, leave and we’ll all forget any of this happened,” Nyx started, her voice sickly sweet, hand inching towards the gun in her holster.

She took a step forward, trying to defuse the situation before it got any worse. If anything, her words angered him, the barrel of his gun going to press against Rosa’s skull. She tensed, hand hovering over her weapon, her eyes narrowing.

“Ain’t no walking away from this, you killed my friend, only fair I kill this brat,” He spat and she quirked an eyebrow, studying him.

He didn’t seem all that upset so she assumed his ‘friend’ hadn’t meant a lot to him or that he was lying, trying to get the jump on her.

“If you don’t leave her alone, you’ll end up like your friend,” She threatened in a dangerous voice, her lip curled to bare her teeth, hand wrapped around her gun’s grip.

“You better watch your mouth, whore,” The man yelled, his gun moving away from Rosa’s head to point it at her.

Overhead, the sky rumbled.

Nyx didn’t hesitate, whipping out her gun, shooting instantly and the gunshot echoed across the town. The bullet hit its mark for Blondie dropped his gun, giving a howl of pain and his grasp on Rosa loosening. Rosa stomped on his foot, running away when he let go and Nyx was already halfway to them when the girl had done it, charging at full speed.

She bent down slightly, wrapping her arms around his waist, tipping them both backwards with all her strength, crashing to the floor. Everyone gathered around started to cheer but she drowned them out as she brought down fist upon fist on the man’s face with no remorse.

Her legs were tight around his middle, preventing him from squirming or gaining one up on her. She didn’t see him as the blonde man anymore, instead, it was another who haunted her wherever she went whether it be in her nightmares or a simple passing face. She was so absorbed in her beatings, her inner self completely consuming her, that she didn’t notice another man coming up from behind her until it was too late.

Someone grabbed her by the arms, looping their own into the crook of her elbows, effectively pulling her off of Blondie, whose face was quickly swelling from her punches. She squirmed in his hold but every move caused him to pull her arms back tighter, her bad shoulder beginning to feel the strain of it. Blondie was in front of her, pulling out a knife and pointed it in her direction.

“Jesus, how many knives you got?” She jibed, wincing when Skinny pulled on her arms.

“Be quiet!” He yelled, stalking towards her.

Once he got close enough, she leant back against Skinny, using that leverage to jump, bringing her legs up and resting her feet against Blondie’s chest which she delivered a swift kick. The latter fell back into the once again roaring crowd while the former stumbled back from the power of her kick. The man let go of her just as she landed on her feet again, Nyx spinning around, lifting a leg up to kick him in the face. Her steel-toed boot met his head and he fell sideways completely knocked out.

Blondie gave a war cry, running at full speed towards her and she gazed over her shoulder, her eyes shining. Rather than doing anything, she simply moved to the side, watching on as he rushed past her. She stuck her foot out at the right moment, causing the man to trip, losing his footing. It was almost comical as he ran headfirst into a wooden beam, falling backwards and landing beside his friend.

A roar of hollering and applause sounded around her and she started to bow, the adrenaline still pumping through her veins. There was a pull on her trouser leg and she stopped her bowing, turning to find Rosa staring up at her with a wide grin on her face.

Nyx knelt down to Rosa’s height and the girl sprung on her, slamming into her chest, small arms wrapping around her neck. She froze her a moment, shaking hands hovering around the girl, unsure what to do. Before she could think more of it, Rosa had already moved away.

“Are you alright Miss Nyx?” Nyx almost laughed.

“Me? What about you?” She wondered, bringing her good hand up to brush away dirt that lay on the girl’s cheek.

“I’m better now, you really showed those guys, huh?” This time Nyx did laugh, the children of this town never did fail to amuse her, they were certainly a tough bunch.

In the corner of her eye, she saw Arthur approaching with two men; an older gentleman and a ginger, who seemed to be staring at her funny. She stood up to her full height, good hand ruffling Rosa’s hair affectionately, “Go on now, your father will probably be worried,”

Without another word, Rosa sped off and Nyx turned her attention to them, or rather to Arthur and she felt a cheeky smile make its way into her lips

“I see you couldn’t resist me for that long, Mister Morgan,” She greeted and saw a flush start to creep up on his neck.

“Well, had to make sure you weren’t gettin’ into too much trouble,” He shot back, bell-like laughter falling from her lips.

As much as she wanted to banter back and forth with him all day, something she had greatly enjoyed the last time they had been in one another’s company, she needed to concentrate.

“Who’re your friends?” She inclined her head to the other two men, the older man stepping forward.

“Hosea Matthews and this is-”

“MacGuire,” The Irishman interrupted, pushing poor Hosea out of the way, the old man crashing into Arthur, who caught him.

MacGuire grabbed Nyx’s hand roughly, causing her to tense, feeling her eyes to flash. He brought her hand to his lips, pressing a sloppy kiss to the back of it

“Sean MacGuire, a pleasure,” He winked, seeming rather pleased with himself.

She withdrew her hand, staring at Sean, utter bewildered and only slightly amused. She turned to Arthur and Hosea, wiping the back of her hand on her trouser leg.

“Let’s go to the saloon, we can talk more in there,” She suggested. 

“Yes, I think that would be best,” Hosea commented.

Nyx nodded, spinning on her heel and waving her hand forward, signalling to the men to follow her. When they entered the saloon, she winced at the state of it; chairs were overturned, shards of glass were everywhere and blood from where her hand had been stabbed dripped off the edge of the bar.

On the other end of the room, underneath the archway that led to the saloon’s back rooms stood Eli. The dark-haired man had his arms draped across his chest, his face mostly impassive but she could see the fire burning in his coal-like eyes, causing her to wince. She turned to face the three, who all stared at her curiously.

“Take a seat, I’ll be back in a second,” She told them and spun back around, making her way over to the man before any of them could get a word in.

She hurried over to Eli, the man already stepping back into the shadows and she felt herself become nervous.

And she was never nervous.

Eli had been a good friend to her ever since she’d arrived at Whitehorse and she didn’t deserve it in the slightest. No matter how many times she’d gotten into fights or caused trouble in his bar, he let her get away with it and she felt like she had been taking advantage of him every time. She was sure that this time was the final straw.

“Listen, Eli, I’m real-” She started, his back turned to her.

He whirled around before she had the chance to continue, flinching when she saw the pure rage on his face.

“Are you fucking stupid?” He was seething and Nyx didn’t think she had ever heard him sound like this before, he was always so neutral.

“I-”

“You haven’t been back for less than twenty-four hours and you’re already causing an issue. Those idiots you just beat up? They’re gonna leave here and tell everyone they meet about this strange woman who kicked their asses. Word’s gonna get around and it is going to reach the wrong people. Some of them have already passed through here but left when they couldn’t find what they were lookin’ for. But they’re going to come right back and this entire town will go up in flames because of you,”

Nyx stared at him with wide eyes, her hands shaking by her sides, jaw open, having not at all expecting the outburst. She was unable to form a response, unsure as to how she was supposed to do that, his words rending her speechless. He must have picked up on that because he gave her a look of disgust, brushing past her.

“I want you gone by dusk,” Was all he told her, continuing on his path, footsteps becoming quieter with each passing second.

Nyx felt her eyes sting, still in the middle of the hallway. When she felt something wet fall on her cheek, it brought her back to reality and she lifted her good hand to wipe the offending tear away. She shook her head, moving to enter her room. Bea yapped excitedly when she entered, bounding over and circling around her feet, nipping at her fingertips but she felt herself being largely unresponsive. Oh, she was one big fool, a mighty one. Although she couldn’t disagree with Eli’s words, she really was fucking stupid.

She tried not to think too much of it now, starting to flit around the room, knowing there were people waiting for her. Nyx stripped herself of her upper clothing until she was naked from the hips up, wincing in agony as she did. The adrenaline had drained from her body now and she felt extremely weary, her body protesting at each movement she made.

She went over to the water basin, grabbing a rag and cleaning up her appearance, avoiding looking at herself in the mirror. She moved on to her hand next, carefully dabbing at the wound, biting at her lip at the throbbing feeling.

That knife going through her hand had really done a number on it. She quickly sterilised it with the gin by her bedside table, giving a cry when she did before wrapping a bandage tightly around it.

She dressed into a white button-up shirt, rolling the sleeves up to feel a little freer and tucking it into her trousers. Nyx left the top slightly unbuttoned, exposing the silver locket she normally kept hidden away. She fiddled with it absentmindedly as she moved over to her lock box, fishing out the plans she had kept hidden away for so long, blowing on it to rid of the dust that coated it.

Bea followed closely on her heels when she left the room, papers in hand, feeling her cheeky and confident mask start to slip onto her face easily, pretending like her conversation with Eli hadn’t occurred.

Bea barked when they stepped into the main room, bounding over to Arthur who gladly gave her dog attention and her mask almost broke, seeing how he was treating her. She whistled sharply and Bea retreated, Arthur gazing up at her.

“I assume you’re not here for a friendly visit,” She stated as she sat down opposite them, her eyes flickering between the two men.

Sean wasn’t here and she didn’t question it, his … attention making her uncomfortable, to say the least.

“We’re afraid not Miss, Arthur tells us you had good information about a train running through to West Elizabeth from California,” Hosea began and Nyx changed her attention to him while Arthur simply watched on.

She placed papers on the table, including a map and pieces of paper with the name ‘Carlyle Banking’ in bold. Nyx didn’t say anything, simply gestured to the two men to take a look. Arthur grabbed a piece of paper, while Hosea did the same.

The one she saw Arthur took was the inventory list and she felt her lip curl up as his eyes widened. The list she knew included six thousand dollars, bars of gold and other valuable trinkets. He snapped his gaze to Hosea, passing the paper over to the man, whose jaw dropped. They both turned to Nyx, who quickly dived into what she knew, knowing there was no point in keeping the mystery going.

“You know that new bank that just got built in Blackwater? Heard a few businessmen talking about how it was owned by Carlyle Banking, a company in California who wanted to expand further east and were planning to transfer half of their investments in early December. Followed them back to their offices, stole the right information about what they were bringing over and what route they were taking,” She finished, gesturing to the map that resided in the centre of the table.

Hosea grabbed it, mulling over it and nodding, his lips pursed, “Trelawny did mention his source was good with information,”

Nyx’s eyebrows shot up at the information, confusion washing over her, wondering how on Earth they knew her eccentric British associate.

“You know Trelawny?” She wondered, glancing at the pair of them.

“He’s been our main informant for years, we saved his life and he gives us information in return,” Arthur told her and Nyx leant back against her chair, crossing her arms against her chest.

“ _Oh my god_ ,” She murmured in Spanish.

“What?”

She looked at him, eyes glittering with mirth and a soft smiling gracing her full lips. So the group that Trelawny had mentioned her information would be good for had been Arthur’s all along. She knew she had a good feeling about the man beside her, it seemed that her luck was finally turning around for once.

“Nothing… just… nothing,”

“Well Miss Nyx, it’s decided,” Hosea stated, drawing her attention away from Arthur.

The older man placed the map back down on the table, extending a hand towards her.

“Want to rob a train?”

She took his hand.

*

The sky over was painted a brilliant red against the dying light of the sun. Stars were starting to emerge and wolves howled in the distance on top of desert hills. The four had left Whitehorse a few hours ago, no one wanting to waste any more time for the train would be on its way soon and they had to plan.

They could have started their trip sooner if Sean hadn’t magically disappeared in Whitehorse, Arthur finding him in a tumble with a blonde woman by name of Karen Jones, who had funnily enough been Nyx’s friend, who was none too pleased that Nyx was leaving again.

Arthur rode beside Hosea in silence, keeping an ear out from behind him where Sean blabbered non-stop beside Nyx, Bea slowly walking between them. He glanced behind him, finding Nyx’s shifting in her saddle, the tenseness of her body indicating that she was clearly uncomfortable. Arthur pulled on his horse’s reins, pulling Boudica to a stop, waiting for the other two to catch up. Nyx glanced at Arthur in distress as they rode past him and he tried not to laugh, nicking his heels on Boucida’s sides to get her to move into a slow trot.

“Sean why don’t ya go bother Hosea,” He suggested and Sean paused in his words, gazing at him as he’d just greatly offended him.

“Bugger off, Arthur, I’m havin’ a lovely conversation here,” He stated, his voice smug now.

In the corner of his eye, he saw Nyx bite her lip, his eyes focusing on her teeth dragging against it for longer than necessary.

“Actually, Mister MacGuire, there is something I need to talk with Arthur about,” She informed him.

Sean’s eyes flickered between them but made no move to leave them alone.

“Privately,” She stressed, giving him a sweet smile that Arthur saw straight through, her teeth practically scraping together.

“Fine, yous won’t know what ya missin’!” Sean winked at her before pushing his horse further forward.

Arthur tried not to laugh at the bemused expression that flickered across her face, her mouth slightly agape, her eyes twinkling. She slowly turned to face Arthur, the pair of them staring at each other and Arthur started to feel his lips twitch.

Nyx snorted, a hand slapping over her mouth, eyes widening and Arthur’s shoulders started to shake, laughter easily falling from his lips. He tried to suppress his mirth behind his fist but it was hard to with the bell-like laughter beside him. Bea yapped and bounded around the horses, Nyx’s starting to fidget at the action.

They started to calm down after that, not wanting to spook the horses too much. Arthur’s cheeks hurt, it wasn’t often that he smiled as much as he did, let alone laugh like this but it was a good feeling, one that made him feel warm as he stared at Nyx.

“The man certainly has a lot to say,” She drawled, her words dripping in humour.

“Annoying bastard doesn’t know when to shut his mouth more like,” He informed her and she huffed, glancing at him disapprovingly.

“No, he’s an interesting person. The pair of them seem like good people,” She stated, smiling at him.

“Wha’ about me?” He wondered cheekily, already glad for the banter growing between them.

She looked him up and down for a moment, the sudden heat in her gaze making him shuffle on his saddle, trying in vain to pretend that he wasn’t bothered by the attention. Honey rose up to meet blue, holding his gaze and he found that he couldn’t look away.

“Hmm, not too sure about that, I think you’re really bad, Mister Morgan,” He rolled his eyes, breaking contact to stare in front of him.

“Says the one who almost beat two men to death,” He jibed, glancing back to find her face dark and he realised his mistake.

“Those bastards deserved much worse, what I gave them was mercy,” Arthur reared back at the dangerous tone of her voice, eyes widening slightly.

They lapsed into an awkward silence, Arthur kicking himself at his big mouth. The tension grew more steadily between them, a dark cloud seemed to appear over Nyx’s head as it did.

Arthur cleared his throat, trying to relieve the sudden thickness in the air that made him far too uncomfortable, so he decided to speak again, choosing his words very carefully next time.

“So, how’d you learn to fight like that? Like nothin’ I’ve seen before,” He wondered, remembering how agile she had been in the fight, unlike the normal brawler technique he’d used, and seen others use before.

Her gloomy features melted away into the normal, confident exterior he always saw on her, her eyes sparkling like the stars that had started to appear above them.

“You’re a very curious man,” She stated, completely avoiding the question which Arthur didn’t mind too much, she wasn’t entitled to tell him anything but it wasn’t to say he wasn’t disappointed.

“Just want to get to know you more,” He told her simply and it was the truth, everything about her was interesting to him.,

“That’s very dangerous territory Mister Morgan,” Her eyes flashed underneath the brim of her hat and he shook his head.

There was a sudden bark from Bea below, Nyx’s horse becoming skittish almost instantly. He watched as Bea moved forward before darting to the left, running off into the wilderness of Cholla Springs, her fur morphing into the darkness that had fallen over them.

“Stupid dog,” She turned to face Arthur, slight panic in her eyes, “Stay here, I’ll go see what the problem is,”

She didn’t give him a chance to comment, already speeding after her dog. Arthur turned to Hosea and Sean who were a little further away, both staring at him in confusion. He simply inclined his head to where Nyx had disappeared to and they nodded. Arthur rode after her, Sean and Hosea following. Whenever a dog would run off like that, there was bound to be trouble and there was no way in Hell he’d let Nyx just wander off alone into the desert, no matter how much she could handle himself.

The wind rushed past his face, stroking his cheeks and combing its hands through the hair that wasn’t hidden by his hat, pushing Boudica to catch up. He saw Nyx not too far away and he picked up the pace, his faster horse quickly gaining speed on hers until they were riding beside each other. She glanced at him, her mouth set to a grim line and he sent her, what hoped to be a reassuring smile but it didn’t work. They started to climb a hill, Arthur spotting Bea just at the top, the moonlight illuminating her.

When they reached the top, Bea had paused just outside a small homestead, barking incessantly. Arthur pulled Boudica to a stop, climbing off her back at the same time Nyx did. He studied the house as they approached, Nyx holding a lantern, the amber glow lighting the area around them. There were splatters of blood across the dusty ground and they both paused, glancing at each other.

Arthur grabbed his gun from his holster, the weapon raised in the air as he started to move again, this time more slowly. The house had flower pots dotted around the porch, some of them smashed, soil all over the wood. There were shotgun shell casing littered everywhere, bullet holes scattered across the front door. Nyx made a move to open the door but Arthur stopped her, his hand brushing against her forearm, giving her a look to which she rolled her eyes but let him go first.

He gently pushed the door open with his fingertips, gun at the ready in case someone sprung out on him. He drew back however when he viewed what was in the main room and he heard Nyx suck in a sharp breath.

In the middle of the room, a man and a woman lay side by side completely still, their hands clasped. He moved closer to inspect them, finding their bodies covered in blood that still looked fresh, their clothes ripped and torn, the woman’s more so than the man's. He knelt down when he spotted a torn piece of paper by the woman’s side, hearing Sean and Hosea come in when he did. He unfolded the note and started to read.

_They came out of nowhere, like Creatures in the Night, raided our home, killed my husband when he tried to defend us. Took my sweet little Madeline, did horrible things to me and branded me as a reminder. I don’t wanna-_

The note was cut short, the other half ripped. His fingers started to curl around the paper, turning it into a ball as a sudden rage roared through him, his hand starting to shake. Who the hell could have done this? What reason did they have to take a child? It was monstrous and Arthur felt sick to his stomach, unpleasant memories flashing before his eyes.

“Arthur, look at this,” Hosea appeared in his vision and it was another to pull him from his thoughts.

Arthur moved over to where Hosea knelt near the woman’s back and mimicked his actions. His eyes widened at the ugly brand that was placed on her shoulder; it was something that appeared to be a snake’s head but it was evident that there had been a struggle because it was sloppily done.

“That look like a snake to you?” He checked with Hosea and the man nodded grimly, his lips pursed.

“Yes, I believe so, must be that new gang in New Austin I keep hearing rumours about, heard they brand people all the time,” Hosea informed him, moving to stand and Arthur following short.

He frowned at Hosea’s words, remembering how the town of Tumbleweed had been nearly destroyed and wagons were attacked more than once but he’d never heard anything about branding, it was sick. He went to speak again when Sean’s concerned voice stopped him.

“Ya alright, love? Your lookin’ rather pale,”

Nyx’s body was tense, her hands shaking like she was coiled up and ready to spring if someone made the wrong move. It was her eyes that made Arthur frown; they looked haunted, as though she had just seen a ghost, fixated on the bodies at Arthur’s feet.

“Nyx,” He started, trying to get her attention but she remained silent and unmoving.

“Nyx!” He said a bit more sharply this time.

It was enough for her eyes snapped to his, the empty look rapidly fading as she blinked and he rose his eyebrows. She coughed, clearly trying to cover up whatever the hell just happened, glancing around as everyone stared at her strangely.

“I think we should leave, just in case whoever did this comes back,” She stated.

“Yes, you’re right. This ain’t none of our business, let’s leave this one to the law,” Hosea agreed, brushing past Arthur who followed.

Arthur paused when they all left the homestead silently, glancing over his shoulder to stare at the dead couple in the centre of the room, the light cutting through his shadow illuminating their joined hands. He sighed, carefully closing the door behind her, making sure it was firmly shut. His eyes went to Nyx, noticing the tenseness of her shoulders before his eyes scanned the horizon.

Whatever was going on in New Austin, whoever these so-called creatures of the night, it all meant something sinister and he didn’t like it. But for now, he kept silent, slowly riding away from the house on the hill, something that would stick in his memory for the days to come. He was so consumed in his thoughts that he missed Nyx glance back, a hand rubbing her arm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot to digest in this chapter! I was going to include Nyx finally getting to camp, but that'll be the be focus of next chapter!


End file.
